Mr Todd, Do you Believe in Ghosts?
by obsessivelyfanaticgw09
Summary: Mr. Todd thought that death was the end of the cycle.  That bloodshed ended all worries of pain…and all hopes of love. But things are happening that are beginning to make him think otherwise.  And now the cycle of revenge might never end.
1. I

**Mr. Todd, Do you Believe in Ghosts?**

**"Mr. Todd thought that death was the end of the cycle. That bloodshed ended all worries of pain…and all hope of love. But things are happening that are beginning to make him think otherwise. And now the cycle of revenge might never end." **

**So...This isn't a rewrite...more like a rePOST. I didn't get the reception I wanted last time, but I'm hoping for better this time! Plus this time around, it's actaully finished! And I'm very happy with it, so read on/reread on!**

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And now there it all was.

All her plans, all her hopes, all her dreams, and all her lies, lying open and dead on the bake house floor.

It had haunted her many times in her dreams. She had woken up screaming in the dead of night, dreading this very moment. She had hoped and prayed with all her might that the moment that she now found herself in would never come.

And now there it all was.

Mr. Todd, leaning over Lucy.

A _dead _Lucy. A dead Lucy that he himself had killed. And the way he saw it, it was all Mrs. Lovett's fault.

"You lied to me," He hissed, looking up at her for the first time since he had realized it all.

The look her face displayed held guilt, regret, and defense. Not that any of that mattered to him now. He waited for a second, still staring at her until she gathered up what to say.

"_No, no, not lied at all, no I never lied..."_

She was trying to defend herself, trying to make him see that she meant no harm, - and in _her_ mind she didn't.

She continued to sing, but he didn't hear her words, he just kept staring down at his wife. His _wife. _As he sang, "_Lucy, I've come home again. Lucy. Oh my god."_

Little bits and pieces of what she sang in unison with him made their way to his ears.

"_Better you should think she was dead…" "Cos I love you…" "Could that thing have cared for you like me..."_

Excuses.

He was outraged. She actually thought these things? She had the nerve to go and tell him that this was all for the best? That she had lied about the one person he ever loved being dead. On top of it all, she truly thought that _her love _for him was an _excuse_?

_Well, she'll pay for thinking such things, but first… she deserves to be lied to like I was._

Mr. Todd stood up and whirled around, scaring Mrs. Lovett who had slowly walked around so that his back was facing her.

"_Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder!" _

He started to walk toward her. Out of fear, she slowly crept backwards, avoiding the bloody man.

"_Eminently practical and yet appropriate as always. As you've said repeatedly there's little point in dwelling on the past!"_

Her mind began to race as she slowly continued to stagger backwards, completely confused at everything that was happening. It was all happening so fast. Had he really forgiven her? She couldn't be sure.

"_Do you mean it? Everything I did, I swear, thought it was only for the best, believe me!"_

He continued to try and coax her into an embrace - a dance.

_"So come here my love! Not a thing to fear my love! What's dead, is dead!"_

He had already planned it all out. His quick planning for revenge had been something that he had practiced and practiced. By now, he was an expert.

At first, she didn't seem to believe him or want to come near him, she seemed to be so unsure. Then, to his surprise she accepted his false offer for forgiveness.

"_Can we still be married?"_

The last comment bothered him immensely inside, but he didn't show it. He continued to go with his plan - Make the last few moments of her life a lie like she had made _all _of his.

"_The history of the world my pet!"_

Now, twirling around the dead bodies on the floor, she was sure that he had forgiven her.

The mere thought of love sent her blindly dancing around the bake house. She didn't even see the bodies anymore. She didn't even see the dark, blood splattered walls. She didn't even see the flame off the bake oven, wide open and hungry... All she saw was the barber dancing with her, his arms slung around her, his grip tightening around her waste, his eyes looking deeper and deeper into hers.

She was in love. Stupidly in love. Madly in love. Blindly in love.

"_Oh, Mr. Todd. Oh, Mr. Todd, leave it to me!"_

A huge smile was splayed on her face. It just made Sweeney's heart race faster- she was falling for it, and falling hard.

"_Is learn forgiveness and try to forget!"_

Her mind raced. Her nightmares would never come true! Everything was alright! In her inability to see behind the demons eyes, in her pure bliss, she sang along with him. She reminded him, as if daring him to agree, of her dream.

"_By the sea Mr. Todd we'll be comfy cozy! By the sea Mr. Todd where's there's no one nosey!" _

He wanted so badly to hear her scream, hear her suffer. He wanted her to see everything around her slowly burn away to ash, just like he had. He wanted his revenge. Nothing could stop him now. Nothing ever could.

He continued.

"_And life is for the alive my dear!"_

There he was, reciting the very words that she had repeated to him so many times.

"_So let's keep living it!"_

He's finally connected all of it! It finally all made sense to him! He wants to live a life with her! She spoke the words with him, loving how naturally their voices seemed to flow together and echo in the bake house.

"_Just keep living it! Really living it!"_

The next thing she knew, her feet were off the ground. For an instant, she thought that perhaps she was flying. In that naïve moment, she thought that she was literally flying over somewhere with Mr. Todd.

But then she felt the heat to her back, and she remembered where they were.

She saw a flash, it was just a flash, but she did see it. Sweeney Todd's face went from reassurance and forgiveness to black, utter hatred.

And the next thing she knew she was engulfed in flames. The smoke from the fire wrapped around her body and snaked down her throat. And she tried to cough, but her throat was already occupied by screams that she hadn't even realized she was blaring.

She couldn't even feel the pain of the flames as they licked and ate away at her flesh and she couldn't even hear her body as it slowly crackled away to nothing but ashes.

But, suddenly she realized, she couldn't feel these things, not because she was dying. Not because the flames had deteriorated all her senses, but simply because these things were not happening… The flames had ceased. Now her charred clothes and ash covered body was simply laying on top of the fires remains and the metal rack used to hold the pies.

There were no flames, no blaze left to engulf her, nothing to be heard but the bakers still beating heartbeat and heavy breathing. Suddenly she realized her eyes and throat burning. Nellie stifled several coughs as the dead fire's smoke tickled the back of her throat. She lunged for a way out of the bake oven. Twould be a pity to escape the flame of the fire only to have the breath choked out of her from the blaze's aftermath. All that her hands found was the metal bars of the small opening at the bottom of the bake oven. Mr. Todd had closed the oven's door shut. Closed and locked it, as if he had known that she would somehow escape the flames of the fire.

Nellie wrapped her fingers around the small rods and pulled her face toward fresher air. Finally, she could breath the semi-clean air of the bake house. As the cool air entered her lungs, she could open her eyes again.

She could make out Mr. Todd, back leaning over his dead wife again. Nellie's heart broke at the site of the love that was radiating off of him even as the one it was directed to was lying, dead, and bloody, and disgusting from living on the streets for so long. But Mrs. Lovett's heat sunk even deeper when she realized that she had no way out of the oven, and Mr. Todd was even too engulfed in singing to his dead wife to notice that the fire had died and she was still alive.

Soon, Mrs. Lovett could make out something dark emerging from the shadows of the bake house.

She silently gasped.

Toby.

Toby looked demon-like himself now, shadows now searing off of his skin instead of the bright energy he usually had. He crept over to where Mr. Todd was, hatred carved into his features. Mrs. Lovett continued to silently watch as he picked up the dropped barber knife and stood with the strength the blade gave him.

And Nellie tried to scream for the boy to stop but the smoke dried her throat so words couldn't even be conjured out. She swallowed, desperate to get moisture back between her lips. But it was too late, the razor sliced across the barbers throat, leaving a thin line of red in it's path.

Nellie's heart sank.

He might have tried to kill her and he might hate her beyond everything, but she still loved him. Despite anything, she always would. And now he was dead.

And Toby was leaving up the stairs. And there was no one to save her.

But instead of the slam and latch of the bake house door, the next thing that echoed through the room was a shrill cry. And a deep _thunk_.

And the next thing Mrs. Lovett realized was Sweeney's head snap in the direction of the sound.

The baker drew in a quick breath. He wasn't dead. Oh she couldn't be happier! But he certainty could be. The barber stood up briskly and angrily and wiped the small amount of blood that trickled down his front with the back of his hand. "Little bugger didn't cut deep enough…" He muttered in his gruff voice. And with that Sweeney was storming toward the door. He stopped suddenly in the bake house's threshold and looked down, "Serves him right," was all he muttered to himself.

Nellie's heart sank and her dry body found a way to produce tears as she realized- the screams were Toby's. He must have fallen down the stairs. He must be there now. His silent and limp body lying there, and all Mr. Todd did was step over his tiny corpse.

"TOBY!" Mrs. Lovett was finally able to shout in desperation. For she might have locked him down there, and she might have searched for him with a barber knife at hand, but she loved the boy. And regret washed over her now. A horrible feeling of utter remorse.

Nellie observed as Sweeney's head snapped back toward the bake oven, his eyes immediately meeting with the baker's, who was still trapped and gasping for air in the bake oven, fingers curled around the burning hot metal rods.

His eyes burned into her. Printing a capturing gaze that was like a bullet to her forehead.

And with that one second of fatal eye contact, the demon walked back upstairs.

And now the baker was left alone.

Simply alone to rot in the bake oven that was meant to kill her in the first place. That bloody thing was going to get her one way or another.

But suddenly, a small voice bounced off the walls. "Mum?"

Life flushed back through her veins as Nellie heard the voice of her son, alive.

"Love! Are you alright?"

"I fell down the stairs, mum. But I'm alright now," the boy said, sticking his head around the bake house door. He gasped when he saw Mrs. Lovett still lying in the bottom of the bake oven.

"Oh, Toby…" Mrs. Lovett stopped as several coughs racked her body, the speaking finally getting to her dry chest and throat. It wasn't seconds later until the boy was over, opening the door and letting his mum fall out of the oven. She spilled onto the pleasantly cold floor like a captured animal desperate for freedom.

Mrs. Lovett's body shook as she hit the solid ground. Her stomach turned, and for a moment she thought she was going to faint, but somehow she managed to stay conscious.

"What's happened?" He asked franticly bending down to hug Mrs. Lovett. She sat up on the floor and hugged him back. Thinking a horribly sarcastic, _what does it look likes happened? _Before actually answering his question.

"Mr. T…" She struggled to talk. "He… he… tossed me into the bake oven." Saying the words hurt her. Physically because her mouth and throat were as dry as could be and emotionally because saying it aloud seemed to confirm that it was indeed true.

"Are you alright?" She asked him, noticing the tears on his cheeks.

"My heads a little sore but I'm alright. And you?"

Mrs. Lovett had been scared before, but now she couldn't help it. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, matching Toby's.

"Could be better," she whispered, a small smile playing lightly on her lips as she tried to lighten the mood a bit.

"Can you stand?" Toby asked, eagerly trying to get his mum on her feet. Mrs. Lovett struggled for a second as she realized how hard she really had hit the oven and then the floor. She somehow managed to get up despite the fact that her back ached where she's sure a bruise would soon be developing.

"Yes, yes. Thanks deary," she mumbled, getting to her feet. She looked herself over now. Her clothes were charred, her hair was still hot to the touch, but her skin had failed to be scarred in anyway. _Strange_, she couldn't help but think.

That close! She had come _that close_ to being yet another one of Sweeney Todd's victims. One to just disappear off the face of the earth. The thought sent shivers down her back and brought more tears to her eyes.

"What now?" Toby asked in an innocent voice trying to capture his mum's distant gaze. She looked down at him as if he were foreign. Her mind was so far away that she hardly remembered that the young boy was still in the room.

"What?" She whispered, slowly struggling to regain control of reality, though it seemed to keep slipping...

"What are we to do now? I fear going back up there, anywhere near that man. If we go back up there, he'll eventually find out we're alive. He tried to kill you once," Toby said painfully bluntly, "I don't think anything would stop him from trying again…" Toby voiced the words that were running through both their minds.

Mrs. Lovett nodded, but her mind drifted. "But we have to..."

"Mum, you don't still trust him, do you?" Toby asked, almost half sarcastically. He didn't mean it like that, but it's how it came out; that's just how absurd it seemed to him. But when he saw the look on his mum's face, he took it back. She looked like she was actually considering going back up to his shop. She looked like she was just going to walk upstairs and continue life as usual. Toby had sensed she had liked Mr. Todd - maybe even loved. But not any kind of love and forgives could forgive this. Even if Toby hadn't seen Mrs. Lovett get tossed in the oven, he did see the other victims on the floor of the bake house and the blood that streaked Mr. Todd.

"I'm not sure," Mrs. Lovett said as she grasped Toby's hand and started to lead him upstairs, where the demon barber was waiting.


	2. II

**Chapter 2 **

"Toby, love. Do you smell smoke?"

"No."

Silence followed his brief comment. The smell must still be coming from her, she figured, despite the fact that she had changed. The baker sat in the parlor with the young boy in her lap, his dingy hair tickling her cheeks as his head rested on her shoulder.

"I wish I had killed him, mum."

"You don't mean that, love."

"He tried to kill yah…I wish I had killed him back for yah." Mrs. Lovett wasn't really sure how to respond. The dim candle that illuminated the room reflected off the wallpaper, making the room a dark, brown green color. It was cold in the room, but when she actually thought about how close she was to dying in the heat of the bake oven…she didn't mind. The fire in the fireplace that had been keeping the two warm had long since burnt out, making Nellie question how long they had been sitting there on the parlor couch. The two had been relatively silent so far, but she could feel the tension building in Toby.

"Why?" He asked, his words tearing through the silence.

_Why?_ Why had she thought that killing men was ever a good idea? Why had she always done whatever _he_ wanted? Why had she locked the poor boy who loved her so much down there? Why didn't she just tell _him _the truth about Lucy? Why hadn't _he _killed her…? She didn't answer Toby again, and it was beginning to bother the young boy.

"I don't understand. Mr. Todd made you do this, yes?" Mrs. Lovett closed her eyes as her throat ached with tears she wouldn't let fall. Toby sounded so much like a little boy, so much younger then he really was. Yet, somehow, he also seemed years beyond his age. Again, the baker was unsure of what to say. And even when she opened her mouth for words to come out, she choked on the stuffy air of the enclosed room. Toby had kept her from going upstairs. She wouldn't admit it to him, but she probably would float up to the barber shop right now if the small boy wasn't weighing her down.

_Why?_ Why would she be up there next to the demon barber who had just tried to get revenge on her by trying to… Suddenly it hit her… Mr. Todd might be done with one revenge plan… but now he had a new one… to keep him going. He tried once to kill her, he had done the same with the Judge, she knew he wouldn't give up until the plan was fulfilled. The plan of the revenge… on her. Nellie's eyes slowly fell to the ground as her energy flowed out of her muscles.

"You're shaking mum," Toby mumbled. She hadn't realized it, but she was. She wrapped her arms around the small boy and hugged him tighter, his warmth grounding her. Tears finally broke out of the puddles that were forming in her tierd eyes and streamed down the edges of her pale face. Toby turned and hugged her back, burying his also wet face and cold nose into her neck. Suddenly, the two jumped as three loud crashes shook the room. _Crack Crack Crack. _The sound rattled the two out of their embrace and ran a chill down Mrs. Lovett's back.

"What was that?" Toby whispered, his eyes floating up towards the barber shop. Nellie too, half expected to see the barber come bursting through the parlor's closed door now, his eyes red and fiery, and his barber knife flicked out and ready to meet skin. But no, this sound was coming from Nellie's own bedroom.

Again. _Crack Crack Crack_

"Someone's hitting something against something," Toby pointed out the obvious.

"Yeah…" Mrs. Lovett trailed off, her voice breathless and dry. Toby sat up off of his mum's lap and didn't move, his eyes fixed on the closed bedroom door. Mrs. Lovett slowly stood up, wobbling on her unbalanced feet and struggling not to continue her mad shaking. The moment was tense as she unsteadily walked over the creaky floorboards to the door of her room. She walked for a few feet and then reached it. She placed both hands against the old chilled wood and leaned up against it, her ear listening to the silence now on the other side of the door. She took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of the wooden door. Nellie reached for the door's handle after not hearing anything, but as her hand touched the icy metal of the knob, the three cracks sounded again- and this times right on the other side of the door. Mrs. Lovett gasped at the sudden noise so close to her head, pulling back and taking her hand off the knob as if it were burning hot.

"Mum?" Toby asked, now propped up on his knees on the couch. Concern coated his voice, but Mrs. Lovett once again didn't answer his question.

"Who's there?" She shouted to the other side of the door. Silence.

Nellie exchanged a look with the now frightened boy across the room. He stood up and raced to her side, not about to back up on his 'I'll kill if anyone hurts you' promise. The baker wrapped her fingers around the cold metal of the handle again and, this time, turned it. The knobs gears shifted and the door swung open like it had a life of its own, creaking like a warning not to step in. Not that either of the two wanted to. The room was pitch black, the darkness covering the space in an eerie way. Then, out of the thick black air, an oil lamp sitting on the side table next to Mrs. Lovett bed, illuminated.

"Mum?" Toby muttered, his voice shaking. "Did you see that?" Nellie swallowed the lump of fear developing in her throat and nodded.

"Hello?" she asked, fearing an answer, but dreading the lack of an answer more. There was no audible response to her question. Instead, something white flying through the air flittered past the light and around in circles, as if it were a dysfunctional bird. Flipping in the air one last time, the piece of paper landed at the baker's feet. She did nothing but stare at the square laying at the tip of her boot for a second. Toby didn't say anything either as he wrinkled his forehead at the sight. Slowly, Mrs. Lovett bent her knees and leaned down to grasp the paper. Turning it around as she straightened herself again, she got a glance at the faces on the photograph she now found in her hands. The light that had so suddenly and mysteriously lit up her room helped brighten up the picture in the dim space. But with the lack of more light, having only one other candle lit in the parlor, the picture almost looked dreary. It simply didn't show the happiness that the people in the picture were feeling at the time it was taken. Nellie clutched the shiny material between her fingers, holding it so tightly that it almost slipped from her moist grasp.

But that was impossible. The photo that the baker now found herself holding - it wasn't possible for her to be holding it. Not without removing the many things she had under her bed, spreading them out all of the bedroom floor, and digging through each of the chests until the hidden photograph was found. Mrs. Lovett herself had been searching for it for years. It was gone she figured - lost to the wind somehow. Yet here it was, in her fingers for the first time in over sixteen years.

"Is that you mum?" Toby broke the sudden flashback the baker seemed to find herself in.

She glanced up at him from where her eyes had been glued to the photo. He was also scrutinizing the moment captured on film, eyeing one of the girls in the photo. The one with the auburn hair and larger then life smile plastered on her face. She nodded her head only slightly, choking over the "Yeah," that came out of her throat.

"Whose the other two?"

"Old friends," she answered rather fast. Nellie traced the faces of the three people in the photograph with her eyes. Each of the curves told a story. She could see the pure bliss in her eyes, the love in the mans, and the plain happiness that arched in the yellow haired woman's. The baker can almost perfectly remember the day. The Lovett's and the Barker's had been invited to a wedding by a mutual friend. Nellie had gotten the invitation, and wanted to take the opportunity to get away from the house, from her husband. So she never told Albert about the party. And that night after he had passed out from everything he drank, she snuck out, knowing he wouldn't notice she was gone even if he wasn't in a drunken sleep. Little did she know that she would be spending the whole celebration sitting down, spinning a glass of wine in her hand, staring at the center piece of the table she sat at. But for that one blissful second, Benjamin had spotted the lonely baker, and invited her to take a photograph with him and his wife. Looking into the barbers eyes and seeing the man that she loved inviting her somewhere, she smiled and accepted. She didn't even see the picture until after Benjamin had been taken away, and Lucy had taken the arsenic, and Mrs. Lovett had gone upstairs to the empty home and found it lying on the dresser. Since then, she had hid it under her bed in one of the boxes she kept there to keep Albert from seeing it. And since then, she had lost it. Yet here it was, beneath her grasp. But…how?

"Mum, that man sort of looks like Mr…" But Toby's words were cut off by the sudden shattering of glass. As they looked up, the two could tell that the oil lamp had been sent smashing to the ground as mysteriously as it had been lit. But before either of them could get a word in edgewise, all of the other light in the room suddenly disappeared, leaving the two in the haunting darkness they had been trying to avoid.

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**Now review!**

**I'm glad to be getting this story going again!**

**And I hope you are too!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. III

**Chapter 3**

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20 hours, 23 minutes, and some odd seconds.

She had been counting.

The sun had come up on another dreary, rainy London day and gone down. Outside, the air was moist and dense; the night sky was dark and menacing. Not that she noticed.

Nellie sat on the parlor couch, elbows on knees, head resting sleepily in her gloved hands. Having not being able to sleep since what happened, dark circles formed under her chocolate eyes that burned from staring so long into the hot fire in the hearth.

She wouldn't dare go in her bedroom. Not in the shadows still hiding the…

_Crack Crack Crack_

It sounded again. This time…From the bake house.

_Crack Crack Crack_

It's been happening ever since the events with the lamp and the picture. Toby was terrified and the only possible reason for the boy passed out on the couch right now was that the baker had slipped him a few tots of gin. And he was out. She supposed it also helped that his head was still aching so much from the fall he had taken.

But now the parlor room was dark, cold, and lonely.

And there was something else wrong.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes floated up (which was something she was beginning to find foolish, it wasn't like she can see anything). Mr. Todd wasn't…pacing

There usually was the noise of floorboards creaking above her head all night. Back and forth, back and forth on the same planks in the same spots…but not tonight. And even under the circumstances, it was strange to not hear the noise that would sometimes lure Nellie to sleep.

Despite the previous events, she couldn't help but worry about him. Perhaps he had left the shop. Been fed up with everything inside that dreaded room, and just gotten up and left. Perhaps he didn't want to be among the baker any longer, then again, did he even know she was sitting down here? Anything was possible.

Even in spite of everything, the baker still felt that horrible empty, longing in her chest when she imagined going upstairs and finding his room empty…she would miss him with everything she had. She already did. She always will.

Or…what if all the pain finally got to him, and he couldn't stand it anymore?

Nellie couldn't stop herself from worrying for the demon barber. She loved this man, and…maybe she could forgive him…?

She decided she had to check on him. She knew in the back of her mind that it very well could be the death of her, but she couldn't stand the thought of never seeing him again. And it's not like she had much anything else to do.

The night was bitter cold. The cloudy sky covered the stars and made the London streets hide everything in shadows.

A chill ran down her back as she struggled to silently and quickly run up the stairs.

Second thoughts crept into her head when she reached the last creaky step. Nellie actually knew that she'd be safer in the street below. She bit her lip as she realized that she was only yards away from the man who had seemed so determined to end her life. The fear joined the midnight chill and numbed her fingers and flushed her cheeks.

Suddenly she felt someone watching her. Her eyebrows pulled together as she glanced behind her, once again expecting to see the demon barber.

Nothing - no one around. Except for…the definite smell of smoke out of thin air again. One whiff, and then it was gone.

Shaking the sensation off, Nellie turned back to the door, noticing for the first time her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She held her breath and reached out her hand for the door, though she could hardly see where the handle was. Missing completely, her numb hand hit the door painfully - but the door unlatched anyway. It swung open like it was alive, creaking unusually loud.

A lump developed in the baker's throat and between the anxiety she found herself short of breath.

It was pitch black in the room - she couldn't see anything.

"Mrs. Lovett?" The cold voice made her whole body shudder and ran her blood ice cold.

It was all too late to turn back now.

Her mind raced at the possibilities of the ghosts hiding in the dark.

Something mindless in her dragged her feet forward. The room was dead but something living (or, perhaps half living) was there beyond.

Nellie struggled to remain calm, not get too carried away or too afraid. But as she went to open her mouth, nothing but empty air came out instead of the words stating why she was here.

Suddenly more words floated out of the darkness, "The boy saved you, eh? The little impostor. You don't deserve to be loved like that…" It was Mr. Todd, no doubt.

Mrs. Lovett gulped and struggled to keep her breathing regular; struggled not to show how afraid she really was. But even as he openly criticized her, she couldn't mutter out one of her usually witty come-backs. She could feel the defensive words banging around in her head, but she knew better to then to speak against the barber now that she had gotten herself into this situation.

She heard another breath be taken in from the dark room and then, "I don't suppose this your idea of a joke…Mrs. Lovett?" slowly came the raspy voice. Mrs. Lovett looked around the room, blind to what the barber was talking about.

"Love?" She managed to somehow mutter despite her fear closing in around her throat.

"Get the candle off the chest, pet. Light it and take a gander." The voice was so…nonchalant… it made her almost fear more. She stumbled around the door to her left and onto the chest. Sure enough, a candle lie with a match.

Nellie hesitated. Did she really want to know what was lurking in the blackness of the shop? Was the demon just playing games with her so she'd see him only seconds before he slit her throat?

The wind blew the door shut, making her jump. Now, she figured there was only one way to find out her fate.

With shaky, sore fingers, she lit the match.

Light filled the room as she grabbed the candle, lit it hastily, and spun around. She closed her eyes, preparing for what was coming next.

But nothing came.

One eye open. Then the other…

Mr. Todd. Not behind her with a razor to her throat. But sitting in his chair with his eyes closed and his body limp, Nellie would of thought he was dead was his chest not rising and falling.

The silence in the room frightened her more.

_What exactly did the demon have in mind for her? What was he thinking?_

"Love?" She whispered again, using a soft tone not to rouse him.

He didn't open his eyes, didn't budge. He simply lifted his right arm stiffly, making it look as if it weighed hundreds of pounds and as if the action was a gesture beyond his control.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes drifted up the window, following the path of his raised arm and pointed finger.

And she almost dropped the candle at the site.

On the glass above her head, words were written. In all capitals, splattered in bright red (she hoped) paint it read, the thick ruby liquid streaking down the length of the window and dripping in a small pile on the wooden floor below. The words were scrawled in hatred, that much was apparent. But _who_ did it or _why _it was there was unknown.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes read the two words over and over again, her head beginning to ache at the rapid movement. She swallowed hard, the fear making even the simplest actions difficult.

Her eyes read over the words again, unable to control herself, unable to stop.

There at the top of the window, read the last two words that Mr. Todd ever wanted to see again in his life.

BENJAMIN BARKER


	4. IV

**Chapter 4**

**Thanks to Jillian the porcelain maiden, Sheila Chiaroscura, lizzielovett, x-Raise-Your-Wands-x, Sylverfire-Lilithe-Todd, and Unbidden-Angel for taking interest! I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter!**

**Long chapter!**

* * *

"Oh…" was all that managed to escape the baker's throat. The sound Mrs. Lovett uttered floated to the floor in the silent room, printing itself in the two's ears.

"I suggest you clean this," came the monotone voice so suddenly, making Nellie jump. At first his words didn't register, but as they sunk in to her conscious mind, the phrase offended her.

She shot out in disbelief and defense, "You…you think _I _did this? ?" She choked on the dryness of the room. Swallowing hard, she continued, "_I _was never even up here!" Her voice became low, anger hinting at the end of each word as she defended herself. Ultimately, she was only providing herself with more reason for the barber to slit her throat. And she knew that.

Finally, the dead man moved, shifting his body, pulling himself up, and actually getting up on his feet. Mrs. Lovett's heart stopped for a beat, sudden fear flushing through her veins. Her foot moved back a half-step, though she wasn't really sure if she was backing away or struggling to keep her balance as her mind turned.

But he didn't stride toward her. Instead, he took four slow steps to the window to gaze out at the grey air. Though, in the dim light, it was hard to tell if his eyes were even open or not.

Nellie didn't back down.

"I…don't know what kind of _witchcraft_ you used but…"

The baker interrupted Sweeney's slow, spaced words, her courage growing with her anger. "Witchcraft? ?"

"Yes, Mrs…"

"You think? !" Nellie stopped herself and took a deep breath. She already knew getting angry around this man wouldn't amount to anything. Now fearful, convincing herself that his eyes were burning through her in what she couldn't see, she lowered her voice. "You think…I used _witchcraft_ to do this?" She struggled to keep the shivering of her body out of her speech.

The shadow nodded.

Nellie took a deep breath and bit her lip in anger and fear. "Mr. Todd…you aren't yet aware that I have found the same two words written on the wall in _my _bedroom. So explain to me why I would do something like that…"

Yes it was a lie…but a lie had never killed anyone…it had gotten close, but hadn't. And besides, finding those words is a lot more solid than just a blown out candle and an old photograph.

He answered her sooner then she expected, "I see no other answer, Mrs. Lovett."

Nellie's body stiffened as a thought hit her. She had to bring it up, she knew it, but the numbness of her face and fingers in the cold room and the darkness discouraged her. She took in another deep breath, the stuffy air that Mr. Todd breathed so easily choking her. The smoke from the candle entered her throat and she struggled not to break the haunting silence by coughing.

"Mr. Todd…" she finally started. She eyed the candle. Then the words on the window. Then finally the man leaning against the window beneath, hardly visible. The baker couldn't help but wonder for a second, as she saw the way the light bounced off and brightened the blood red words and hid Mr. Todd in the shadows so well at the same time. She hoped the shadows hid her so well also.

Swallowing again, and feeling wings flutter inside her stomach and chest, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

She was left surprised and speechless at his answer, "Mrs. Lovett. I _am_ a ghost."

She didn't deny it.

Instead, she let silence engulf the room again. She didn't really have a choice; she wasn't even sure where she had planned to go with this anyway.

His voice sliced through the thick air, "Do you believe that a ghost is responsible for the dead man's name written here above my head?"

The baker nodded, slowly and not in a very convincing way.

"I'm becoming tiered of your lies…"

Her heart dropped.

Nellie found herself questioning how long she had to live. She silently wished he would just get it over with instead of playing games with her.

Suddenly, the room's temperature dropped drastically, running a rapid chill down Nellie's back and making it tingle down her arms and legs. She took this as a warning.

_RunRunRun_

The words rang in her ears, sounding as if coming from an outside source not within her own mind, though Mr. Todd clearly did not mutter them. She couldn't move though, she was frozen to the floorboards.

Then suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Mrs. Lovett saw something move. Something gold glinted off of the candle light. Then, there was an ear shattering crash.

The sound made Mrs. Lovett jump and let out a small scream. Her eyes darted to the floor in search for the source of the crash. But Mr. Todd had found it first.

He glared down at the golden idem that had conveniently landed at his feet. Forgetting about her fear briefly, Mrs. Lovett brought the candle over to Mr. Todd, who picked up in his hands the shattered remains of what had fallen.

As the candle's light flooded the demon's dark corner, he turned around the glinting shards in his hands, broken glass clanking to the ground.

Ms. Lovett focused the candles glow on the pale man's hands and her mouth fell open at what was left of the frame they held - Mr. Todd's precious pictures of Lucy and baby Johanna.

The glass that protected them had shattered and the frame cracked and disconnected at the corners. But what was worse is that the shards of glass had torn both of the pictures in an unusual way - right down the center.

"Oh, Mr. T…." Nellie whispered with sympathy, realizing how much the pictures meant to him.

But his mind was too far away to hear. Too absorbed in what the pictures really meant to him. Too absorbed in what he had just lost.

"Get out..." he mumbled, his words hardly audible.

Mrs. Lovett didn't move, she just kept gazing at the sharp blades of glass, wondering how it flew all the way to Sweeney's feet from where she swore she saw it sitting on the dresser across the room. Surly it did not just fall.

Her train of thought was crushed by Mr. Todd's sudden outburst of rage, "GET OUT!"

Mrs. Lovett gasped as she hastily placed the candle back on the chest to the left, picked up her long skirt, and ran out the door. Her heart racing, she rushed down the stairs. Rain that she hadn't noticed before pelted her face painfully and made the steps wet and slippery, making it difficult for her to keep her balance as she rushed down them.

Sweeney slammed the door behind her, sending a curse to her that she would fall down the wet stairs. He held his broken family in his hands not daring to try and remove the picture from the broken frame, fearing more damage to the photo.

"I'm sorry, Lucy…" He mumbled to his empty shop. Perhaps if this wasn't Mrs. Lovett's doing, perhaps if ghosts were real, then perhaps his dead wife heard his apology.

Sweeney drug his feet over to the dresser, not being able to see himself in the mirror in the dark room. He placed the shattered remains of his possession, ignored the small cuts that had appeared on his hands and fingers, and went back to glare out the window.

But as he turned around, moonlight suddenly brightened the room. Unexpectedly, he became aware of the words that had suddenly appeared in the fog on his large window.

The words were written in beautiful cursive, very distinctly, "Leave This all Behind…"

A normal person would have screamed or gasped…or at least flinched. Or a normal person would have dismissed it, explaining it away with a rational explanation. A normal person would have had a chill run down their back as the words stayed, minute after minute and never faded.

Ah, but Sweeney Todd was no normal person. So he simply stood there scrutinizing the four words now written on the window pane.

After standing there for what might have been hours, staring at the cursive letters, with no sound besides the falling rain on the roof, Sweeney could only conclude one thing - The writing in no way could have been Mrs. Lovett's. It was simply too fancy, too perfect.

Alright, so honestly, he had known all along that it couldn't have been the baker. She had no more control over the world then he did - despite their desperate attempts.

But there just didn't seem to be any other explanation.

_Mr. Todd, do you believe in ghosts?_

Do you believe in ghosts Mr. Sweeney Todd?

He honestly wasn't sure if Sweeney Todd believed in spirits roaming the earth.

Yet, oddly enough, he did remember what Benjamin Barker believed.

Sweeney glanced up at the "Benjamin Barker" now dried on the window above his head as a sudden bolt of lightning lit it up. As the thunder rolled through the sky, faithfully following the light, Sweeney was thrown into a scene from his past.

_He was soaking._

_No…not him…Benjamin Barker…was soaking. _

_He grabbed the handle with his right hand, slipping and struggling to get a grip to turn it as he shielded his eyes from the rain with the other hand. It wasn't until he got a good grip on the slick metal that he was allowed into his home. He didn't see his beautiful yellow haired wife until he shoved open the door and walked into the bright room, covered in yellow and green wallpaper. And he only saw her seconds before she wrapped her arms around his drenched clothes and shivering body and buried her face into his neck. Benjamin took in her warmth, savoring her touch and feeling his goose bumps disappear. And then suddenly it hit him - why in the world was his warm, dry wife wrapped around his dreadfully wet body? When he could finally subside the sound of rain pounding in his ears, he could hear her sobs._

"_Wot is it love?" He asked, grabbing the young woman's shoulders and pulling her away from him so he could see her face. _

_Still she tried to hide her teary appearance from his eyes. "Oh no, Ben. I'm so unattractive when I cry."_

"_Now love," Benjamin said in his ever-so-soothing voice, his soft lips curling up at the corners. He took the woman by her shoulders again and guided her over to the couple's bed, where he sat her down. "You're beautiful no matter what," he finished, truthfully in awe over the teary eyed woman. _

_Lucy couldn't help but feel a little better as her always loving husband's comments warmed her and relaxed her a bit. A smile played on her lips unintentionally. She pulled her sleeve of the light blue gown she was wearing down over her knuckles and wiped her cheeks and eyes in attempt to make the tears disappear. She grinned at Benjamin again, this time embarrassment causing the slide of her pale lips. He always loved her smile. Even now it brightened up the room. _

"_Love, what's happened?" Benjamin whispered, suddenly noting his sleeping baby girl in the cradle next to their bed. _

_Lucy finally looked at the handsome barber in his dark brown eyes. The contact sent shivers down her back. He might be cold, wet, and catching pneumonia right now, but he set aside every single one of his complaints to listen to her petty experience._

"_Ben…" she started, but wasn't really sure how to go about it. "Benjamin. I believe today…" her eyes lost his again, this time falling to watch her hands fidget. When it didn't seem that she was going to continue, Benjamin took his hands and covered hers with them, squeezing them for comfort. She took a deep breath and continued, "I believe today I saw…" her voice lowered to a whisper, "…a spirit."_

_Ben's only response was a raise of his eyebrows. _

"_Lucy…?" He whispered back slowly._

_But the yellow haired woman stopped him and said as she struggled to hold back more tears, "Ben, my cousin, Maggie, died yesterday." The man's eyes widened but Lucy didn't give him a chance to mutter out condolences before she continued, hastily,. "But that's not why I'm so frazzled. Ben, I _saw_ her. Today in _this_ room. S-she stood over Johanna and made her giggle and moved her doll and then she looked at me and disappeared into a mist. I swear, Benjamin, I swear I saw her and…and…Ben…I," Lucy's words were stifled by Ben's hushing._

_Tears now poured down the woman's cheeks and her whole body was shaking with fear._

_But her husband had the amazing ability to make her feel completely at ease with one hug - and that's just what he did. _

"_Shhh…Lucy…darling…" he calmed as he wrapped his arms around her small body and rocked her. Lucy buried her face in his shoulder, his drenched shirt not helping to dry her tears. _

"_Lucy dear, tell me," Ben sighed, "Can a ghost really move an object all on its own? Can it really be seen by ordinary people, like you and me? Can a heart's beat be heard even after it has stopped beating? Of course not love, so there's nothing to be frightened about."_

"_I know what I saw Ben," Lucy responded rather bitterly, swiftly breaking the loving contact by standing up. She walked over to the large, slanted window and ran her finger over the foggy glass, leaving a clear line in its path._

"_I wouldn't dream up something like this. I wouldn't lie," She muttered, her eyes avoiding her husbands. She took her lanky finger and wrote in the fog that covered the window, slowly, trying to advert the attention. Simply, 'Lucy Leah Barker'._

_Benjamin sighed and stood up. Cautiously, he walked over to his wife, hating the bitter look that pulled her eyebrows together and made the corner of her lips curl down. Despite her closed body language, he pulled her into a hug. _

"_I'm sorry love."_

"_I wouldn't lie Ben, you know that,"_

_He did nothing but nod, not entirely sure where he stood on the subject of what she had seen or had not seen in their home. _

"_I would never lie to you," Lucy added as they broke the hug. Benjamin ran his hands up and down her upper arms and looked lovingly into her sparkling hazel eyes._

"_And if I ever had to lie to you…" she began after a beat, a smile appearing again. _

"_I don't believe you would ever do that," Ben interrupted, frowning. _

_But Lucy laughed and cocked her head, _

"_But really!" she giggled. _

_Then, a more serious look on her face, "I would only lie because I love you." _

_And as Benjamin cupped her wife cheek with his hand and kissed her lightly, all thoughts of the spirit were forgotten._

_And that was the last they ever spoke of it. _

He was sure.

Sweeney shook his head out of the vivid memory as another bolt and rumble shook the foundation of his shop. He briefly wished he could just live in such memories as this. His wife so alive, so loving, so virtuous. And now all he had to face was the devil of a baker and mysterious happenings.

Mr. Todd's eyes fell onto the four words still so lucid on his window pane. But this time he saw it, it was different.

The same cursive _L_, same _e_ and _a_. The way the _n_ curled, the way the _B_ spiraled.

_Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Sweeney Todd?_

Because now he realized, someone was trying to contact him from beyond.

And now all he could do was listen to the command and run out into the pouring rain without a second thought. And run down the stairs. And down the street. And into the shadows…to leave this all behind.


	5. V

**Thanks to Sweeneytodd-is-AWESOME, Jillian the porcelain maiden, and Sylverfire-Lilithe-Todd for liking it so far! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 5**

Nellie had run down the stairs, clutching the soaking wet wood railing at the bottom when she almost slipped. Not bothering to glance back up at the barber's floor, she simply rushed into the pie shop, having better luck with this knob.

Inside the building, she stopped to gather her bearings. It was a sickly green color in there, with the only light to bounce off the colors of the room coming through the hallway from the parlor. A bolt of lightning and a rumble of thunder made the baker jump as she struggled to catch her breath.

Twenty-four hours ago, that could have easily been chalked up to a normal Sweeney Todd experience. But things were different now. There was just something about the way his gruff voice held blame in it, the way his eyes dared her to stay, the way the actions had the ability to run Nellie's blood cold. That all wasn't there before last night. Now Sweeney was different. Now even the one person who loved him saw him as a demon.

The only sound ringing in Mrs. Lovett's ears now was her shaky breathing. With one more breath, she straightened herself from where she had bent over and rested her hands on her knees. She closed her eyes and blew the air out of her cheeks, trying to regain back her control.

Fear eventually gave away to slight anger. And all the baker could do was pull together her eyebrows, look up, and shake her head. That bloody man was forever taking advantage of her. Standing there in the pie shop, practically soaking, she wondered if it was even possible for her to love the man anymore…

Can you really love a man even after he has tried to kill you? Especially when the exact reason for his attempt is _because _you loved him? It seems impossible, then again, how could she give up something so quickly that she had worked so hard for?

Rolling her eyes, Nellie shook it from her mind. She figured that perhaps this would all be a lot clearer after a very much needed good night's sleep. So the baker surpassed the need to yawn and began walking back into the parlor.

Following the light streaming through the crack in the heavy wooden door, Mrs. Lovett pushed it open and stepped into the parlor.

But instead of seeing a still sleeping Toby like she was expecting, she saw something rather unusual.

Right there, bathed in the dancing candle light was the young boy, standing on the chair that used to sit next to the door to Nellie's room. And the lad was…writing on the wall.

To the left of the golden mirror he stood, his back to her, his right hand raised high, and the rest of his body looking limp and motionless. For a moment, all the baker could do was stare at the boy who was defacing her own home while she was gone, and then she shouted through the shock, "Toby!"

Upon the voice that rippled through the room, the lads hand went weak, and he dropped whatever he was writing with. For a moment, he just stood there on his high spot, as if the world had stopped turning. Then, he just went limp. His whole body followed the motion and he fell to the ground. He landed with a loud, wall shaking thud, his head sounding a bone chilling cracking noise as it hit the corner of a side table.

Nellie's annoyance and confusion instantly transformed to worry as she watched the lad take the fall in front of her. Her eyes widened as she let out a small shriek, her hands automatically flying to her mouth. Straight away she rushed to the boy's body lying on the ground and grabbed his head in her hands. "Toby!" she called to him, touching his face and praying there was still activity below his closed eyes. "Oh, Toby love! !" Tears jerked at her eyes as her heartbeat grew faster and faster. This was the second time this boy had fallen in the last day, how much could he take?

Please, god, no.

Toby was all she had left. All the baker had left to love - all that loved her back - all that she needed - all that she wanted…the little boy laying limp in front of her to be ok.

Please, god, no.

She grabbed the boys hand and squeezed it, praying for his eyes to flutter open soon. "Toby?" She whispered as the boy failed to show any sign of life. "Oh, Toby, no…" Her own eyes quivered shut…no…

"Mum?" Faint colors that the candle light allowed flooded her vision again at the sound of the young boy's voice.

"Toby?" was all the baker could choke out even before she saw his eyes open up, and his chest begin to heave, and his hand twitch in her own. Toby pulled both his hands to rub his eyes as he looked around, bewildered.

"Yah gotta stop scaring me like that, love!" Mrs. Lovett gasped out, a smile forming on her lips and playing with her words.

"Mum, where am I? How'd I get down here?"

Mrs. Lovett helped her son get up, sudden relief flushing through her and calming her muscles as she found that not only was he alive, but he seemed to be reacting and moving fine. She helped him sit up on the cold floor as she stuttered back, "Oh…love. You don't…you don't remember? Really? You was up on-on that chair…" The path of her eyes pointed to the chair by the lad's feet. She continued to help him up onto the parlor's couch, him holding his head as he did so. "You…you fell…I thought you was…" She didn't finish the sentence, she didn't need to. Toby wrapped her in a warm hug, communicating the love.

"Sorry I frightened you Mum. But I don't even remember getting up there. Last thing I know is that I was falling asleep." He sighed and rubbed his head again, as his eyes wondered up to the words that were written right where he figured he would have been standing. "But what's this?" he asked, raising his hand and pointing at the words that were scrawled on the wall.

Mrs. Lovett took her eyes off of the boy for a moment and let them read aloud the very words he had written. Minus the last letter, which Toby hadn't finished, "You deserve to be dead…"

"How'd that get there?" Toby whispered.

"You wrote it, son," Nellie mumbled back, bewildered that the boy had no memory of it.

"Why…why would I write something like that?" he asked, for a moment forgetting about the pain shooting through his head.

"Perhaps you didn't…" the baker mumbled. Standing up, she snatched the candle off of the hutch where it sat and brought it over to the wall left of the fireplace to make better light of the situation. She read the words a couple times and then spotted something next to her feet. Almost hidden under the chair was a tube of lipstick.

"Lipstick?" she mumbled, thinking aloud, "Well this tube certainly aint mine…"

"What do you mean I didn't do it?" Toby asked.

But before the baker could answer, she was interrupted by a hauntingly familiar sound.

_CrackCrackCrack_

It turned both the people in the cold parlor silent and frozen. It was a few moments before Toby muttered, "You know what I've come to figure that sounds like Mum? I've heard it before, when Signor Pirelli adopted me… You know what it sounds like?"

Mrs. Lovett's body tingled at the thought and she almost couldn't find the strength to mutter it out loud. "A judge's gavel."

"Ya…" floated through the parlor and landed silently on the ground.

The baker struggled to swallow the lump in her throat and keep her stomach from turning as she looked up at the words again.

_Now who would want us dead? Perhaps someone that we have wanted dead before. Perhaps someone who wants revenge, just like we did. Perhaps someone who is now vandalizing my home with threats and using little boys to get his message across…someone who would use a judge's gavel to announce himself. _

"Mum," Toby broke the baker's train of thought. "What're you thinking?"

"Toby…" Nellie said, not being able to remove her eyes from the five words on her wall, not being able to drop the tube of lipstick in her hand, but backing away slowly from the scene. "Mr. T and I seem to find ourselves…haunted…"

The words rolled off her tongue too easily, like the words were just dying to be uttered.

"Haunted?" Toby echoed, his voice questioning.

"Yes, lad. You saw…the…" She lowered her voice, her eyes still glued to the wall. "You saw the… bodies in the bake house…it shouldn't surprise any of us that those body's souls want revenge. And just like a demon barber, they won't stop until they have us…"

Toby's voice softened with fear, "You say that…ghosts…are haunting you…and threatening you?"

Mrs. Lovett nodded, her gaze finally leaving the evocative words and falling on the boy. "And trying to get to us. By threatening us, and harming us. And harming the one's we love."

Toby's eyes grew large as his heart dropped at the thought. So now he was caught up in all of this too?

"We have to tell Mr. T! !" Nellie scrambled toward the pie shop, shoving the candle into Toby's shaking arms. "Come on, lad. This is urgent, and I am not letting you out of my site again!" she shouted, motioning viciously for the boy to follow. "Blow it out and let's go!"

Toby stood in the parlor as he listened to the baker's boots clomp across the pie shop and out the door. He gazed back up at the words, his eyes hardening at the writing. He only had seconds before she would come rushing back in for him, but as Toby lifted the candle to his lips to engulf the room in darkness, he resisted the urge to climb back up on the chair and finish the phrase.


	6. VI

**Thanks to Jillian the porcelain maiden, Sylverfire-Lilithe-Todd, and Rainbow Username for showing support! Here's another chapter!**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Nellie rushed out of the pie shop, ignoring the fact that it was still raining and that Toby wasn't following as quickly as she would have liked. All she needed to do was warn Sweeney to watch his back…assuming he didn't already figure that out.

She scrambled up the stairs and burst through the barber shop's door. "Mr. T!" she let out in a gasping breath.

Her eyes flew to the right of the room, surveying the empty bed, the dark mirror, the candle where it still sat lit on the chest. Then her gaze flipped through the center of the room and past the vacant barber chair and lack of shadows blocking the window. It dashed all the way to the left, where the candle's light didn't fully reach the dark, but the blank corners were still visible.

He wasn't here.

And there was something stranger then the lack of a presence in the room. Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but grab the candle and run over to the dresser, where all seven barber knives still sat. Six were kept neatly in their case and one out and open, as if preparing for something. She counted once…twice. All seven were here, but the barber wasn't.

And that's when Mrs. Lovett knew that something was _very_ wrong.

For Sweeny never _ever _left to _anywhere_ without at least one of his trusty friends.

Yet, they were all still here.

Nellie backed away slowly, as if she had just seen a dead body lying in the shop. Then again, she was used to those. She wasn't used to this.

_Now what?_

Mrs. Lovett heard footsteps pounding up the stairs behind her. "Mum?" came the voice of the source of the steps.

The baker spun around quickly, her wet hair whipping her in the face. "He's not here," she said hastily to the rain-soaked boy now standing in the barber shop's threshold. She dismissed the fact that she, too, was soaking and set the candle down on the dresser eyes were wide and worried, yet still tired and droopy. Toby cringed at the haunting look it gave his mum as the moonlight reflected off of only half of her face.

"I can…see that…" Toby replied slowly, taking in the empty shop himself.

The baker ran past the boy to the outside of the shop, the rain pouring down on her again though she barely felt it. All she could think about was poor Mr. Todd. He might look like a demon, and act like one all too well, but there was still a little bit of human on the inside. And that little bit could easily catch their death out here.

"We have to go after him…where ever it is he has gone…" she muttered to the street below, looking over the railing and beyond, over the tops of the buildings and past the sky-line, now turning a lighter grey with the dawn.

"Maybe it's for the best that he's gone," came Toby's surprisingly rough voice. He had walked into the shop to avoid the rain and was now looking back at the baker, who was still standing like a fool in the downpour.

Nellie noted the unusual tone of the lad's voice and turned back to him gradually. Her eye's narrowed briefly at the boy and the way _he _looked now that he was bathed in the barber shop's moonlight. She couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Toby since what had happened that night. She remembered the fire she had seen in his eyes as he attempted to end the barber's life. The way a bit of their demons had seemed to have rubbed off on the young boy. Could it have really of changed him so much? Toby never went against anything his mum has ever said before.

"But Toby…" she muttered, as if a child begging her parents for sweets.

She was cut off by his voice, "I know mum…you love him." The baker smiled at the boy's care as she turned back around to survey the streets, hoping it would help. She was too caught up in her concern for the demon to see the bitterness in Toby's features or hear him mutter, "More then you'll ever love me. Despite all the things I've done for yah. And despite all the horrible things he's done to yah…"

"Oh, look! The sun is rising, good. It will be easier to find him now! Do you have an idea where he might have gone?" Nellie asked, briefly turning back to Toby, who simply glued his eyes to the ground and shook his head. Not that she'd notice his resentful look even if he did look up.

"Well then, we'll have to search for him," she said with confidence, stepping back inside the barber shop and not even noticing the puddles that she was leaving as the rain dripped off of her.

"But mum," Toby shot out rather harshly. She turned back to him, for the first moment, looking him in the eyes and listening. "It's raining. We'll become ill if we forge into that. Not to mention that it _is _London. Things happen in the dark that are better left avoided," he muttered, his eyes darting around, unable to hold the bakers still fiery-like eyes.

"Oh no deary, it's letting up, it is. And we'll be fine." But she knew what he meant. Shadows roamed London's street at this hour. And it would be impossible to face them should they accidentally stumble upon them - at least unarmed. Her eyes flew to the back of the room, where a barber knife glinted off the silver moonlight. "Grab the razor, love," she threw back hastily at the boy as she began her careful decent down the stairs.

Toby gazed back at the razor as he remembered…the way it made him feel. The power it gave him as soon as he lifted it. The determination to end a life deserving to end. The want to have the strength he had when he could feel the chased silver in his hands, and run his fingers over the carvings. So he forgot about everything else that was going on for a moment and grabbed the open razor on the dresser. And with the _swoosh_ of him closing it and stuffing it into his pocket, he was out following his mum around the streets.

Neither of the two were sure how long they searched the streets of London. The rain let up, then poured again, then let up, then poured again, yet Mrs. Lovett refused to go home. It simply didn't help that it was too early for anyone with half a brain of knowing if they had seen the barber to be awake and out.

As the sun rose all the way- at least from what could be told behind the clouds- Toby and Nellie stopped for a rest.

Toby had pointed out relentlessly that there wasn't a bit of a chance that they were going to find Mr. Todd. The barber simply was too much like a magic act, he said. Frightening but mysterious, and with the ability to disappear in a moment. But Nellie hadn't given up hope. And perhaps there was a little bit of fear that going back home might lead to more hauntings that drove her along the puddle-ridden streets.

They stopped for a rest by a small pond on the outskirts of town. The baker had promised that after the break they would head home to get something to eat. Though neither of them were very hungry, it had been forever since they had eaten and something had to be in their systems.

The baker wandered over to the bank of the swampy pond, covered with algae and yellowing plants. She sat on top of a large wet rock, not caring for she was as wet as she could become. Looking at the boring landscape of the pond- simply water, a few dying trees here and there, and rocky, weedy grass - she pulled off her sopping boots. Toby stood next to her and watched. He had been relatively silent the whole search, not even really looking. In fact, the only thing he had been concentrating on was memorizing the delicate design of the silver razor with his fingertips as he caressed it in his pocket all night long. Even now he rubbed his fingers over it.

Sighing, Nellie relaxed and let her feet fall into the water, loving the cool, calming feeling it brought.

"Mum, are you mad? It's freezing out here," Toby muttered as he crossed his arms over each other and struggled to rub away the goose bumps.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Lovett replied honestly, "Cause I'm rather hot."

"Mum, there's frost on the grass," he said, and he wasn't lying. Bright, sparkling, tiny spheres of frost lay on weeds surrounding the area around the pond.

The baker shrugged. "Oh, so there is…" Didn't feel like that out here. It felt hot. At least, that's how her body felt. Very hot, as if she was sitting next to a fire and not a half-frozen pond.

"I knew we'd get sick if we ventured out here! Why didn't you listen to me?" Toby shot out suddenly and harshly again.

"Oh lad, it's nothing really, it's just… There! Do you smell that? ?" the baker interrupted herself as she got another hint of the bitter smell she was beginning to become used to. The sharp smell of smoke.

"Smell what, Mum?"

And then as fast as it had come, it was gone… "Nothing, lad."

They both sat there for a moment, the soft early morning air biting at their noses and flowing through their hair. It the silence in the moment, the baker could perhaps, if only for a moment, forget about the reason they were even there.

"Well Toby dear, I'll start to put me things back on. You begin to plan the way home. You know I'm hopeless when it comes to direction."

"Yes Mum," was all Toby muttered as he jumped off the rock he had perched up on and began to walk back toward where the London streets began. But he didn't make it very far before he spotted something.

The young boy scrunched up his nose at what he now saw across the river. He wished the whole night that they could just go home without him, but not anymore. Sweeney Todd sat on the opposite side of the pond, under a tree. His legs were spread and his arms rested in-between them and even from the distance where Toby stood, he could feel the anger radiating off of him. Toby stood there, glaring at the man, until his Mum caught up with him and could spot him across the river too. Though, instead of avoiding him like a person with any sense would do, she simply sighed a sigh of relief and began her walk toward him, leaving Toby to watch from the other side of the pond.


	7. VII

**Thanks to Rainbow Username for the review, I lovett too :)**

**Chapter 7**

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"Mr. T…" Nellie sighed as she looked at the barber still sitting motionless on the weedy grass. She kneeled next to him, studying his features. Now that she could see him in the light, he looked angrier then ever before. Though he must of cleaned since that night, which was good, for Mrs. Lovett figured that the site of blood would be all to much to take right now. He was his usual, light skinned, sunken eyed self. Well mostly. All except for the thin line of red across his throat.

And even out of the corner of his eye, Sweeney could see the baker too. She also, had seemed to return to normal, all except for one thing. One thing she hadn't even noticed… Her hair was noticeable shorter, and charred at the ends.

But she no longer smelt of smoke, and he no longer smelt of blood.

After looking him over and concluding that there was nothing wrong and he was just being his regular Sweeney Todd brooding self, Mrs. Lovett shifted and sat right next to him, her legs out and crossed at the ankles, and her arms stretched out behind her.

He didn't yell at or threaten her. And she didn't nag or gawk at him.

In the moment, it seemed like perhaps things could return to normal, which is all Nellie really wanted.

"You used to come here with Lucy." broke the pond's still water silence.

"I figured it only so…"

An awkward stillness filled the cool morning air around the two. Mrs. Lovett's eyes drifted over to the barber again, and she couldn't help but note, "Mr. T…your cut…it hasn't healed at all…not in the least bit…" Her forehead wrinkled with the mystery. No cut like that can just stay raw for that long. At least, not in any healthy way.

He flashed an angry glare at her, wishing she really didn't care. _He _didn't really care. If he died from some horrible infection or something, perhaps it would be right. Perhaps it would be right since the cut couldn't kill him the first time.

"Mr. T…" Mrs. Lovett said, barely parting her lips as she struggled to catch Sweeney's distant gaze. "What's the real reason you came out here?"

Silence followed her question, not even a blink from the barber, no sign of the gears turning in his mind at all. No sign that he even heard her.

"We're you frightened by something?" she whispered with a smile, almost asking mockingly. Sweeney responded this time, if only with a glare out of the corner of his eyes, not even bothering to turn his head to respond to the baker. Then, he shook his head ever so slightly, a quick jerk to the left, then back in place. When was Sweeney Todd ever scared? He couldn't be scared, he didn't have room in his mind for things like fear.

The early morning wind flowed through the trees, making the leaves quiver and a few began to float toward the ground. Nellie let the smile slide off her face as she whispered to the man, ignoring the fact that he seemed to care less. "Well I was…" She let empty air follow her words as they floated to the dirt between them. "Mr. T," she began again, "I still don't know if you believe in this spirit thing…but… I don't believe there's any more reason to deny that we are…haunted."

Again, she let a few beats flow by before going on. It was as if she felt she was breaking great news to a small child, who needed lots of time and explanations to fully comprehend the situation. "And I think I know who's doing this haunting."

Sweeney had been hearing the words this whole time. Goodness, how was it _not _possible? Just the way Mrs. Lovett talked in her ever-so bothersome voice, it couldn't be ignored. Even by Sweeney Todd, who had been listening to it every single day for nearly a year. So instead of blocking the words out, he just learned how to not respond, and eventually she would give up. And besides, every once in a while, her mindless blabbering was useful. Like it had been just then.

He already knew who was haunting them. He already knew why the words had read the name of his dead self and why that picture had been sent smashing to the ground.

One person - Lucy.

So that's why he really became interested when Mrs. Lovett whispered a different name, "Judge Turpin."

Sweeney couldn't help but send a glace of disproval in the baker's direction. She noticed it, like she noticed every move he made, and went on to defend her thought. "Who else would want us dead?"

This time the barber even went as far as narrowing his eyebrows in confusion - No message he had seen related to wishing death upon the two.

Nellie noticed this slight movement too, "Mr. T…after you left, this ghost, well it got into Toby somehow…I'm not sure how. But it threw him off a chair! He could have been seriously hurt! And he was only up on that chair because the spirit that was controlling him made him write on the wall… 'you deserve to be dead'."

_You deserve to be dead? _Now why in the world would his Lucy write that? Surly she must be a _little _angry about what happened, who wouldn't be? But the Lucy that Sweeney remembered was forgiving and loving and...simply didn't wish those kinds of things.

"Another thing, Mr. T. Toby and I…we keep hearing this sound…like a judges gavel it sounds like," Nellie whispered.

A judges gavel…Now the gears were _really _turning in the barbers mind. There was no possible reason why Lucy would use that. So…it couldn't be her then, he concluded. As much as it pained him to think it, he was wrong, the baker was right. The evidence simply didn't add up. He actually kind of found himself relaxing internally. Perhaps its better that his Lucy was at peace. But still…then why would the judge write _Leave this all behind? _

Why?

Mrs. Lovett simply sat and watched Mr. Todd as his eyes darted around. She knew he must be thinking something, and she was prepared to wait for him to make light of his thoughts all on his own, even if it took all day.

It wouldn't take that long though because he had figured it all out. The judge was simply _acting _like he was Lucy. He knew the barbers weakness - his wife. He wanted to make him vulnerable and get him out of his home. His home where he had all the power. By making him weak, he could get to him easier. Because the judge was back. That bugger was back from the grave to get revenge on the man who got revenge on him. Sweeney cringed, it was a never ending cycle for the two. But he would find a way to come out on top. He has too. For the sake of himself, and fully avenging his wife and daughter.

"We have to go back," Sweeney finally murmured, barely opening his mouth as he muttered the words.

A flood of relief flushed through the baker as she saw Mr. Todd come back to her. But even as she sat there, finally completing what she had set out to do, she couldn't help but wonder, "And do what?"

At that the barber stood up, towering over Mrs. Lovett as if to show his dominance. She looked up at him as he continued to look out into the distance, the reflection of the sun on the pond playing on his pale face.

"Show we have no weakness. Not give into temptation. That's what _he _did, and that killed him."

Mrs. Lovett softened her face, still a hint of questioning in it. Letting her eyes float across the pond in hopes that she could see the same thing that he saw she muttered back, "But how can we get rid of him? I can't live the rest of my life knowing the judge is in my home."

"We show our dominance. Show that this is where we dwell and we want it back. Command that the Judge does not belong there. The only place he belongs is Hell." Sweeney's voice was hard and demanding. Powerful and encouraging. He knew what he was going to do, and as soon as Sweeney Todd knew what he was going to do, he was going to go through with it, no matter what.

Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but let a sly smile spread across her face-she had gotten her Mr. T back. Her plotting, dark, vengeful, Mr. T.

And with that, he started his way back to the shop, not about to let Judge Turpin get the upper hand. Toby, who sat silently across the pond, playing with a stick in the mud spotted the movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up and saw Mr. Todd begin to leave and the smile on his mum's face. Through it all, he still hated the way that Mr. Sweeney Todd, despite ever bad thing he has done, had the privilege to be loved by his mum. In Toby's eyes, he simply didn't deserve it.

The walk back was silent. Despite the London streets beginning to bustle with people, the group walked through all of them as if the other individuals didn't exist. Sweeney only wanted to get home and confront the judge…show that he had no weakness. Mrs. Lovett just wanted to try and get things back to normal. Perhaps that could all happen now. And Toby walked in front of the two, his hands shoved in his pockets and his expression hard, wishing different things from the both of them.

The way back to Fleet Street was a long walk, and a three of them were relieved when they could see the small arched tunnel that was built across the way from the shop in the distance.

As they grew closer, Nellie was suddenly flooded with the abrupt smell of smoke yet again. She wouldn't have bothered to mention it this time, figuring that no one else could smell it, but the bitter smell quickly grew into a bitter taste in her mouth, and it didn't go away. "Mr. T?" She mumbled, the first thing she had said on their walk home. "Do you smell smoke?"

He wouldn't have answered back to the babbling women even though he did smell the aroma of smoke drifting through the air, but the bitterness was growing stronger and stronger. He nodded his head only slightly.

And as the three began their way through the tunnel even Sweeney was shook from his thoughts by the orange and yellow colors that played off of the top and sides of the stone. But it wasn't until Toby screamed, "MUM!" that the two rushed forward.

The smell grew, the lights brightened, the air became foggy, and they could almost feel the heat on their noses and cheeks. When they finally turned the last corner to Fleet Street, it became all too clear what Toby was shouting about.

There, in front of their eyes, the top half of Mrs. Lovett's meat pies was engulfed in flames.

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**_Lets see some reviews!_**


	8. VIII

**Thanks to Rainbow Username (thanks, but I think I'll pass on that meat pie XD), Jillian the porcelain maiden, AThousandVoices, and doyoureallycare for reviewing/doing whatever you did to make me happy :)**

**Ohwards then!**

**Chapter 8**

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As dark chocolate eyes and cold dark orbs fell onto the site of the flames, as if right on cue, rain began to pour. Yes, it had been raining on and off all day long, and the sky was dark and ominous, and it was bound to happen at any moment. But the way it fell right as the three stumbled upon the site was eerie. As if someone had made a huge mistake, and was trying to cover their fault before the authority walked into the room. As if the world was a second too late in hiding the flames from their eyes.

Cold rain fell over the three, smoke filled the air, and sparks fell, mixing in with the rain water in a fight over who would cover more of the ground below.

And the ashes and the rain fell, but all of them hardly noticed.

Toby stood there, his arm still hanging in the air, pointing at the wreck, paralyzed at the site. Nellie craned her head to see the smoldered remains, forgetting to even breathe as she took in the site.

And Sweeney Todd's eyes widened, his revenge-ridden thoughts halting abruptly as he saw the place where he'd lived for so long, only a skeleton in what the fire left behind.

"What's happened?" softly rose above the sound of the heavy rain. Mrs. Lovett's voice, quiet at first and then frantic and panicking. "What's happened? What's happened?" Sweeney didn't notice, but Toby watched as his mum whipped herself around Fleet Street, rushing up to every person in the streets, tapping them on the shoulder, but none seemed to care. They were all now in a hurry to get out of the pouring rain.

"Hello? ? Can someone please tell me how this happened? Does anyone know? ? Hello? ?" her voice rose, echoing in the street that was becoming vacant. "Why won't they listen? ?" she asked as she watched another person she was talking to walk into a nearby shop.

"They don't care. We aren't important enough to anyone," Toby muttered.

They all figured it so in the back of their minds. For perhaps rumors had gotten out. Perhaps about the disappearing men, or the attempted murders of each other, and it wasn't enough of a story to start police on anything, but it was a haunting enough word to stop the customers, and make socializing with the residence of that shop frowned upon.

Mrs. Lovett closed her eyes and sighed, her breath coming out it shakes. Turning back to the smoldering building, she opened her eyes and squinted through the rain. "Oh…my…" she choked out, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and stifle the sobs that were erupting from the pain. Rolling her eyes and shaking her rain drenched head, she filled her lungs back with the musty air.

_Be thankful, right?_

_Be thankful it began to rain._

_Be thankful it didn't get to the shop or any of the lower level._

_Be thankful no one was home._

But as Nellie took another deep breath to calm the shock, she turned back to Sweeney, and she could tell he wasn't thinking the same grateful thoughts.

He looked much like he had when he first came through the pie shop's door after his return, only…all of his emotions were deeper now.

Less innocent and more still.

His eyes had the most emotion they've held since they became Sweeney's eyes; Sparkling with tears that the Benjamin in him begged to let fall. But the dominate Sweeney Todd easily took over and kept the weakness from showing. The darkness in his eyes where a shiny brown color used to circle was seemingly turning bigger and darker in shock. His eyebrows raised high in sadness and devastation and yet, his whole forehead narrowed inward, giving his features the last touch of anger and madness that made the face of the man standing in the middle of the street, soaked with the pouring rain, dead frightening.

Mrs. Lovett shuffled over to the barber as he didn't to move - seemed to even not breathe. She moved right in front of him, surveying his look. His gaze was above her head, easily seeing past her and gluing to what used to be his home.

Without a second thought, the baker slipped her hand next to his and grasped his palm. She hadn't even realized what she had done until she felt the small jolt that racked her body's normal heartbeat pattern when his cold hand came in contact with her. Her eyes darted to his, only slightly surprised when she saw that he didn't even notice. She hadn't intended for the grasp to mean anything more than a gesture to get him to move, and she struggled to keep it that way.

"Come on, love," she mumbled, her voice hard to hear over the rain hitting the brick streets. She pulled lightly on his arm.

The barber stumbled, only to catch his balance as she moved him, though his gaze didn't falter. Relieved she could budge him, she pulled harder.

"You'll catch your death out here."

The baker drug the dead weight across the street and through the chiming door of the pie shop. Toby tagged along, all of their eyes still glued upward. Even once they had stepped inside, their gaze remained up. The pie shop was an eerie silent besides the sound of the rain dripping on the windows and the water falling off their wet clothes,

"Everything looks alright in here," Nellie said, surveying the seemingly sturdy pie shop's ceiling and not caring if either of the boys heard her or not.

"Yeah, for now," Toby muttered back, scrunching his nose at the bitter smell of smoke that now filled the entire lower half of the building. "Till the floor of upstairs caves in…"

"Well," Mrs. Lovett sighed, "Let's not run off to the workhouse just yet, alright?" she finished, not trying to hide the annoyance from her tone. She shot a glare at Toby. Not nearly as frightening as the daggers Mr. Todd usual threw, but enough for Toby to figure he shouldn't of said that. Besides, even the mention of the workhouse ran a chill up his spine that caused his whole body to shudder.

"Toby, love, yah wanna go check the rest of the house for me?"

Toby was about to protest, but he supposed that he could dry himself off while he was back there also, so he nodded and walked away.

Nellie sighed and closed her eyes.

_So much for getting back to normal_

She slowly turned on her heel so she could see Mr. T, who was still standing in front of the pie shop door, with that same look on his face, still with his eyes on the ceiling.

"Oh," the baker couldn't help but let a sound pity escape the back of her throat. She slid her feet over to where the pale man stood.

The baker stood only about a foot from him, her eyebrows pulled upward and together in sympathy for the barber. "Oh, Mr. T," she whispered. Absent mindedly, her arms flew up. But she stopped herself, her arms halting and floating in the air, her fingertips only inches from his elbows. She could tell from his high gaze that the barber didn't notice, but she still bit her lip and lowered her arms. It took everything in her to not wrap him in a hug. But it simply wouldn't mean the same comfort to him she wanted it to mean.

"Mr. T…I'm so sorry…" seemed to be the only words she could think of.

Nellie could tell that, for once, the thoughts buzzing around in the demon's head weren't revenge motivated.

Benjamin Barker lived there for years. His wife and him moved in, lived there, worked there, loved there, for so long. Johanna was born there. She took her first steps across that floor. And even after Benjamin Barker was sent away, he lived in the memories of that place. Eventually, nothing of Benjamin Barker did exist except for what had happened in that small room where he lived. And even when Sweeney was the one that occupied the cell where Benjamin used to suffer, he longed for the day when he could see the room again. Gaze out the large window across the London streets. Set up the barber chair once again and make sure that certain people got to it. And even though the room held memories, good memories that hurt to remember, hurt to know that it was all over and could never happen again, it was a place where the demon could always go. And feel at home, close to his dead wife, and in power.

And he had lost everything.

Besides the memories that now lay in ashes, he had also lost his workplace, his fancy chair, and all of his precious friends.

"Nothing burnt Mum, but there were some leaks in yah bedroom's ceiling. Don't worry I put some pans under them but it's an awful racket," came Toby's voice from next to the parlor's threshold.

At the sound of his voice something suddenly popped into the baker's mind. She spun around brusquely, her wet hair almost whipping Mr. T in the face. "Toby!" Nellie shouted rather loudly, making Toby jump. "Toby, lad. The razor! I told… I told you to bring a razor! Didn't I? Show it, love…give it here!" Mrs. Lovett said fairly quick, reaching out her hand to the boy.

Toby held his breath. He knew he had the razor. He could feel the weight in his right-hand pocket; he could feel the cold silver against his skin.

He didn't break his Mum's hopeful gaze as he pulled his left pocket inside out, shook his head and mumbled, "Must of falling out…" Forcing a frown he added, "I'm sorry, Mum."

Nellie sighed, her shoulders slouching and her eyes dropping with disappointment. Slowly, she turned back around to the barber. Displeasure was replaced by surprise when she saw the look on Mr. Todd's face.

The fire had returned to his eyes, and his gaze had finally come down to stare daggers at the two in the room.

He _lost _it?

That boy had taken one of his razors without his permission and… _lost _it? Not only this but the woman actually let him take it? Told him to? Now any person - any one of London's dirty, filthy buggers - could have it. Could use it. Could abuse it.

"Now, love," broke the demon's thoughts. Mrs. Lovett, her voice low and quick "It was an accident, you know that. I only told him to take it for our own protection. Don't be angry love."

But Nellie's thoughts of defense were interrupted too, by the smash of a pot on the pie shop's door, right to the left of the barbers head. The loud clank shook up the baker, causing her eyes to grow large and her to jump. Mr. Todd didn't even flinch as he glared behind him at the large soup pot as it rolled on the ground.

Mrs. Lovett spun around again, her eyebrows now pulled together. "Toby!" she scolded loudly.

The lad was already searching with his eyes where the pot could have flown from. Somewhere to his left, from what he saw out of the corner of his eye. At his mum's voice, his eyes shot up. "It wasn't me!" he shouted back defensively.

The baker shot a confused look at the boy but was immediately distracted by the sudden movement of a bowl on the counter. It rolled around on its base for a few seconds, and then stopped as suddenly as it had started.

"What the bloody h…" But Mrs. Lovett's puzzling words were cut off by the movement of the bowl again. But this time, it lifted in the air and threw itself at the baker. She could practically hear it _whoosh_ through the air as it flew toward her head.

Not being able to help the scream escaping her throat, Nellie ducked to the ground. Well, more like threw herself on the ground, her hands barely being able to keep her body from hitting the ground painfully.

Upon seeing the bowl spiraling toward his head, Sweeney did nothing but lean his body a bit to the right, the bowl strategically missing his head by inches.

"It wasn't me!" Toby shouted again, holding his hands up in defense. Mrs. Lovett nodded at the boy as she tried to sit up.

Suddenly, all the glasses and tea cups on the shelves next to the parlor door and directly to the left of Toby began to shake violently. As if an earthquake that none of the three in the room could feel was racking the city. Yet, instead of simply crashing to the floor below, they too began to fly across the shop. Toby hastily ducked behind the curtain to the parlor as the glass crashed against the walls, the floor, and aimed themselves at the barber and baker still standing by the door.

And suddenly, the whole room was in chaos.

More pots and pans flew this way and that at high speeds. The dusty plates from under the counter smashed around the room. Rolling pins and spoons danced and flew. Flour clouded the room and even the table and chairs began to bounce with the ruckus.

Nellie just sat in a ball on the floor, her hands over her head, praying that none of the flying objects would find her so low to the ground.

None of the three were exactly sure how long the rumpus lasted, but it seemed like hours later when the last tea cup shattered against the wall and the pie shop was left in a haunting silence.

Mrs. Lovett slowly picked up her head (her hands still covering it, just in case) as Toby peaked back between the curtains.

"Is everyone alright?" Toby asked, steeping into the shop. Glass crunched beneath his shoes.

A thin sheet of glass carpeted the tile floor. Utensils, towels and large pots and pans were sprinkled every few feet. The overall appearance of the shop was just plain disarray, as if a tornado had blown through.

"I'm fine," Nellie said, sitting up and checking herself for cuts the shards of glass could have caused. None. No bumps or bruises either.

Got lucky, she figured.

"Mr. T?" The baker asked, her eyes gliding behind her and up at the man who towered over her.

There he stood, surrounded by heavy pots that were recently airborne and broken glasses and cups, but he was untouched.

"Well," Mrs. Lovett said, sarcasm hinting at the end of the word. Standing up and brushing some of the flour off her dress, she finished, "Wonder who could have done that…"

She scrutinized the barber for a moment. She shook her head in wonder that he was unharmed. It wasn't like he was a target hard to miss.

She simply sighed and shook her head.

Perhaps the spirit was simply messing with them…for now at least.

"Come on," she sighed, grabbing Mr. Todd's wrist rather rough. He didn't flinch, he simply illustrated the same angry-at-the-world face he had been playing through all of this.

"Let's get you something to eat, love." And the baker was able again to drag the barber into the next room.

"Toby, get the broom," she muttered, exhaustedly as she sat the hopeless man on the parlor's couch and left him alone.

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**And the hauntings continue! Review it up, I love hearing from you guys!**


	9. IX

**Thanks to Rainbow Username and Helen Young for reviewing! Makes me happy :) **

**Heres chapter 9 now! YAY!**

**Chapter 9**

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In a small amount of time, Mrs. Lovett had baked up a wonderful meal for the three. A nice pot of vegetable soup, some potatoes, and some rice. None of them wanted meat, particularly.

And now there it all sat, still on the plates, in front of the three in the parlor. The food had long ago become cold and hard. Nellie cooked it, but even she didn't seem to have the appetite to eat it.

The baker scrunched up her nose and sighed as she took the three plates full of food and brought them back to the kitchen. She didn't bother to do anything besides place the dishes on the already cluttered counter and walk back to the parlor.

Falling back onto the far right side of the parlor's couch where she had been for hours, she let all the air in her lungs flow out in an attempt to relax. After sitting for a moment in the silence the parlor held, she moved her head to the left, cautiously eyeing Sweeney who was brooding on the other side of the couch.

Filling up only the left edge of the cushion with his small body, he sat, slouching, with his legs spread wide and his face resting on his fist that was propped up by his arm on the arm rest. His dark eyes fell onto where a fire would be burning (had anyone dared to light one) in the fireplace. Even in the dim light that the closed curtains let in of the setting sun, the baker could make out the raw wound on his neck. She wished he would let her tend to it.

They had been huddled up in that parlor all night. It was raining outside so Nellie's bedroom was a bloody racket of _drip drip drip_ from the leaks in the ceiling to the already half full pots of water. The pie shop was still covered in glass and Mr. T couldn't go to his room for…obvious reasons.

So the three hadn't been anywhere but the parlor all day. Nellie didn't _want_ to be anywhere else. She didn't even want to be here. Not with the spirit that seemed to be so hell-bent on killing them.

But the sun was now setting, and the shadows were growing.

It seemed like several hours before anyone dared to speak again, but it was Mrs. Lovett who finally broke the silence. "Mr. T…Of course…you can stay in here on the couch for the time being. I'm sure Toby won't mind curling up on the floor in my room for now."

The baker glanced down at Toby. She wished she could have the peacefulness that Toby seemed to so well adapt to, now curled up much like a cat in front of the hearth. She desired it to come that easily to her too.

"I never meant for it to go like this," surprisingly came the badly annunciated words of Mr. Todd.

"What are you talking about, love?" Mrs. Lovett answered back, determined to continue the conversation. She leaned closer to the barber, placing both her hands to the left of her and leaning into them.

Mr. Todd did nothing but shoot a _what do you think, woman? _look in her direction as a response.

Mrs. Lovett shook her head and glued her gaze on the barber's profile as if it could get him to turn his head. "Oh, Mr. T. You don't think I blame you for all of this do you?"

She could practically hear him roll his eyes. Of course though. It wasn't regret that his words held. It was hatred. But not towards himself or the baker. As always, toward the judge. The ghost that he presumed knocked over the candle and knocked him out of his place of power.

Mrs. Lovett dropped the subject. Once again it was going to be impossible to get the demon's mind off of revenge.

Well…perhaps there's one thing…

"Mr. T? Can I ask you a question?"

The barber, as usual, did not respond. He didn't see the point. He could mutter out a 'What?' or even a 'No' - the baker would still blather on.

"You…" she continued, pausing for a second to run her tongue along her dry lips. "You don't seem angry with me…why?" Her words hung in the air, a challenge for the demon to say something. Nellie really wasn't sure why she brought it up. She supposed that he would be coming after her, even with his whole world toppled over the way it was. Perhaps though, there was some human left in Sweeney Todd.

The baker didn't expect a response. If nothing else, perhaps the words she muttered would get the man to think of her for once.

But as she began to lean away from the barber, he muttered back, "You don't seem angry with _me_." His monotones voice made it hard for his words to be determined, but she understood.

He _had _thrown her into the flames. He _had _left her to die. He had _meant _for her to die. Yet here she was, sitting across from him like none of it ever happened. Staring at him lovingly as if her hair wasn't charred at the ends. As if there wasn't a huge bruise on her back from her body banging against the back of the bake oven. As if he hadn't tried to kill her.

The baker had fought with herself nonstop. Arguing that she wouldn't - she couldn't…- love this man anymore. It was too dangerous. But whenever she saw him - bathed in moonlight, drenched in rain, covered in blood… whenever she looked into his eyes and saw the dark orbs reflect the light around him, seeing everything differently than everyone else…

Sometimes she couldn't even tell what drove her to the demon, like she just _had_ to be with him.

Even if he _had_ meant for her to die. She couldn't help but forgive him, because…well that's who Sweeney Todd was right? And she loved him for who he was.

"You're right Mr. T…" she whispered, her heart leaped with a nervous swallow and chills suddenly ran along her arms and legs. "I forgive you," she continued. "Because I…" She didn't finish the sentence…she didn't need to. He knew the words that stayed halted between her lips.

_I love you_

Her eyes cautiously fluttering up, she mumbled, "What's your excuse?" almost bitterly.

After a loudly inhaled breath, "I hope you know that me _tolerating _you is in no way me _forgiving _you. You deserve to be dead."

Nellie flinched at the words Mr. Todd said as they echoed in her mind as the same thing Toby had written on the wall in her parlor.

"So do you," she commented back, almost without thinking. He didn't deny it. Of course not, he had said it himself that day so long ago. It had been ringing in the baker's ears ever since. She tried to pretend that it had no meaning to it, but the more she went on with life, the more it did.

_ No we all deserve to die. Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I._

"Then again," she sighed, "so do the lot of us."

Silence engulfed the two again. Though Mrs. Lovett hardly noticed with her loud thoughts bouncing in her head. Again, she glanced carefully at the dark man on the other side of the couch. He was so hard to see now that most of the sunlight was gone. The shadows around him just swallowed him up. Like they knew exactly what dark thoughts he was always thinking.

The baker leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees, letting her curls fall down over her shoulders and tickle her cheeks. Silently she began to fidget with her fingers. Finally, she found the courage to take in a deep breath of dry air and mutter, "So…Mr. T? How do we… I mean if we ever get this…" it for some reason was almost felt foolish to say. "…ghost thing taken care of… even then. How do we go on?" She turned her head to the left and her eyes, which had been watching her fingers fidget, darted up to the man. "How do we continue?"

He didn't bother to look at her and see, but her eyes sparkled in the light that the now lit street lamps let in. The light cast off her pale face rather hauntingly and her hanging curls reflected an eerie auburn color.

The light was doing similar things to the barber. Playing off his white stripe of hair and…his deep, sparkling red cut.

Nellie couldn't help but reach up and feel her throat with her fingertips, in a gesture of _doesn't that hurt?_ She cupped her neck and rubbed back and forth in a nervous motion.

"We can't simply go on like what happened that night never happened…"

No response.

Nellie dropped her head back toward the floor as she covered her forehead with her other hand. She began to talk again, now rather loudly and with feeling. "I don't think…" she sighed. "I don't think I can _ever_ stand the sight of blood again." Could she really not? The baker couldn't decide if what happened that night in the bake house was enough to scar her that badly, but it seemed like a good ploy to get to the barber.

But still…no response.

"We can't," she said bitterly, demanding a reaction.

"We have to," whispered the demon, as always, opposing the baker.

Mrs. Lovett's body clenched and her arms shook in anger as she sat up straight. Talking to this man was like talking to a child.

"Mr. T, listen!" she demanded, turning toward the man and leaning in, "Look at me!"

He didn't look, but it didn't keep her from continuing.

"You don't even have a home! Or…or a shop! Mr. T, you don't even have your razors! They're gone!"

Regret washed over her as she shouted the last few words. She didn't mean to mention something like that, but it did seem to have gotten his attention. If a two-second flicker of the eyes counts as getting his attention.

Her tight facial features and overall body tension relaxed as she sighed in almost and apologetic way.

"We _need_ to get away," she mumbled. "To leave…before anyone finds out about our…_business_. We've got to move," a smile unintentionally appeared on her lips…if only for a fraction of a second. "To move…" again, she didn't finish. Not just because that her suggestions of moving to the sea were useless and she knew it, but also because she was becoming more and more angry.

He just wasn't listening. He never listened! Through everything she ever did for him. Skinning, grounding, cooking, and hiding his dozens of victims, every bloody night. Feeding him, washing his clothes. Paying for everything he ever needed, even before she had the money. Loving him. Waiting for him for fifteen years. Loving the demon he'd become…

The least he could do was listen!

Yet, he never did. Through her endless, futile spiels he never even cared.

Well…there was once…once. One time when her pointless chatter was faced. One time when he looked her in the eyes…actually looked at her and appeared as if he had heard what she said. And was about to say something…something positive and like-minded. That moment was shattered but through the bakers currently crazed mind, she thought perhaps bringing back the moment would recreate it.

Her elbows back on her knees, she squeezed her eyes shut, picturing the scene in her mind. Her jaw was tightly clenched, her back was arched, her whole body was tight and tensed.

"Mr. T… Can I ask you a question?"

Again, he didn't answer, his mind still caught up in something completely unrelated. But Mrs. Lovett's next comment was enough to get his attention, just like last time.

"What did your Lucy look like?"

Even in his drifting mind, he could tell the phrase wasn't meant in the same way it was last time. It no longer held pity and wonder. It held anger and desperateness.

Only moving his eyes to glare at the taut woman a few feet from him, he growled, his words edgy, "You've already asked me that…" The first time she asked he was suddenly discovering that he was losing the memory of the beautiful facial features of his wife. Now, the question was simply torture. As if he hadn't been tortured enough.

Despite his answer, she continued like he hadn't said anything. Her voice loud and sharp, her body tensing even more, "But you can't really remember, can you?!"

Sweeney actually turned toward the shouting woman now, furrowing his brow at her surprising actions. She looked so stressed. He resisted the urge to feel pity for her.

"You've got to learn!" she continued, "To leave this all behind you know! SHE'S GONE!" With that final outburst of words she turned her head and opened her eyes, locking gazes with the bewildered barber. "She's gone…" she said again, this time only a whisper. Mr. Todd could see the wild fire in her eye. He often saw the same look in the mirror - Hopeless, crazed with the want for more.

"Mr. T?" the baker continued, unblinking, in a softer, swifter voice. "Is there any doubt in your mind now that Lucy is gone?"

All thoughts of confusion and pity forgotten, Sweeney stood up harshly, "No thanks to you there's not!" he shouted bitterly.

The words and body language were enough to make the tears start flowing. No matter how hard Nellie tried, she couldn't help but hurt the man she loved. As regret again flushed through her veins, the baker stood up, determined to not let the man gain too much power over her.

"I KNOW!" she shouted throwing her arms back in defeat. Though the tears threatened to choke her voice, she was determined to not let the barber act like this. To go on like she was the devil who has never done anything for him.

"I know what I did was bloody wrong! !" she shouted, as if yelling was the only way he could hear her. "Alright? And yes! I. Deserve. To. Be. Dead!" Nellie jabbed her fingers into her chest, pushing back the pain rising in the back of her throat. "ALRIGHT? I know THIS! I deserve it!" But suddenly, something just broke in the usually resilient baker and she fell, hitting the couch hard and letting out a heart breaking sob. Wrapping her arms around herself in a desperate attempt to comfort herself, bent over her knees again, she struggled to breathe through the tears as she mumbled, "But I only lied because I love you."

For once, Sweeney had actually heard all of Mrs. Lovett's rant, perhaps only because she had never shouted like this. But the last words she muttered were enough to even make him turn his back away from her, to see the broken pieces of his landlady sobbing on the couch. He had almost asked her to say it again, but she shook her head and answered his unasked request.

"I only lied because I love you…"

It didn't take long for Sweeney Todd to reconnect the affectionate line to his past. He was immediately hit with a flash of his beautiful yellow haired wife, sobbing in fear in his arms. Feeling so scared and lost. Then, the same woman's glorious smile, her love radiating off of it. But this time he saw it, instead of more of his lovely past's pictures running through his mind, he saw…Mrs. Lovett.

The way she was now. Curled up and sobbing, equally - if not more - scared and lost then his wife used to be. And then the baker strolling next to him, on their way home only this morning, flashing across his vision. Her smile larger than life when she looked at him. He hadn't seen it then, but it had the same love glowing through that smile as Lucy's.

And no, Mrs. Lovett was certainly not Lucy.

She was nowhere close, even. But she did seem to love him equally as much as his wife had. She had no rite, she didn't deserve to, but she did. She even loved the man he became, after what seemed like a lifetime of her waiting for him and loving him every day of the fifteen years. Would Lucy have done the same given the chance?

She even went as far as loving the man he had become, the blood lusting killer. And now that the barber was seeing clearly for the first time, he realized that Lucy probably wouldn't have…

She wouldn't have loved a murderer. Someone who hated everyone. Lucy could only love Benjamin Barker, and he was no longer the same man.

So perhaps Lucy was meant for Benjamin…

But Sweeney is meant for someone else…

He wasn't about to change his mind so suddenly. He wasn't about to go and wrap the baker in a hug, or say that he loved her. In fact, he wasn't at all sure what to do. Sweeney Todd had long ago forgotten how to communicate the strange small feeling he was feeling right now. Was it guilt, confusion, love, or just plain pity?

Slowly and almost cautiously, the barber walked over to the still sobbing baker. Her auburn hair hid her face from him, something she was relieved about. So as he bent down next to her, he took his hand and gently moved her curls and tucked them behind her ear so he could see her face in its entirety.

Nellie would have turned away to hide her face again, but she realized fast that it was Mr. Todd, and he hadn't done anything gentle to anyone for over fifteen years.

The baker sniffed and let her eyes flutter open, her gaze turning up to his face, now not ashamed for the man to see her cry.

He simply took his pale fingers and used them to lift Mrs. Lovett's head from where it hung. Nellie sniffed again, her tears halting suddenly with an unexpected flush of emotion. Confusion, wonder, longing, love. The face now in front of her was just how she imagined it looking when he went to kiss her on their wedding day. Filled with uncertainness, unease, and a sense of 'do I really have to do this?', but knowing he has to.

And being alright with it.

The barber swallowed hard at his suddenly dry throat.

"Mrs. Lovett…" he whispered, and the baker couldn't help but notice how close his lips were to hers. "Mrs. Lovett…I…"

But his words were very suddenly cut off…by the cock of a pistol next to their heads echoing through the room.

* * *

**Guys...this is where it starts getting intense...Review to get more!**


	10. X

**Wowy! Thanks to everyone for the reviews and everything! Big thanks to HellieLovett, Noodlemantra, Dionne dance, Jillian the porcelain maiden, some random Guest, Nath Stokes, Luna-Adnaron, and Helen Young! YAY!**

**ONWARDS!**

**Chapter 10**

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It took only seconds for Sweeney to be snapped out of the trance that Nellie's eyes had caused him. And as the breath that she had been subconsciously holding in was pulled out of her by the break of eye contact, Mrs. Lovett turned her head too.

And the barber and the baker were suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun.

Sweeney's eyes automatically darted to the gun man, while Mrs. Lovett's followed the arm up to the face slowly; not daring to move, barely daring to swallow or breath.

"Toby?" the baker asked as the boy's bitter face came into focus.

Even in the dim light, it was clear that Toby was indeed the one tightly gripping the guns handle. The demons that Mrs. Lovett spotted before in the bake house had returned to his gaze. His eyebrows were pulled together in hatred and the powerful feeling that came with the strength he felt behind the gun shined in his suddenly dark eyes. His skin was deathly pale all of the sudden, the shadows deepening in his eyes and hallow cheeks. It was as if something had taken the loving little Toby Nellie knew and blown out his bright light. And now, the boy standing in front of her, rattling with power, held no remains of the young boy.

"Toby, love. What are you doing?" Mrs. Lovett gasped, her voice lower than a whisper, shaking with confusion.

What had gotten into the boy? Was he being controlled by the ghost again?

"Don't…call…me…love," the boy growled back, his teeth gritted, moving the gun's end to point between Mrs. Lovett's eyes.

"Boy," Sweeney snarled, less fearfull then Nellie.

Toby darted his eyes toward the voice, locking harsh gazes with the barber.

An unwanted, frightening silence followed the barber's single word.

Mrs. Lovett struggled to breathe through the fear as she stared down the gun. But then she realized, it shouldn't be the gun that she's afraid of, it should be the one whose finger is lingering on the trigger. And that was Toby.

Sweet, loving, obedient Toby. Nellie figured it all out in a flash. If they were going to get out of this, she was going to have to grab the mind of the young boy behind the gun and bring it back to the real would.

Mr. Todd didn't appear like he was going to say anything else. He just sat there, his eyes boring through Toby, his mind figuring a way to kill the lad before he could kill him.

So the baker took the action of calming the boy back to earth into her own hands.

"Toby, where did you get that? Here, give it to me." The words that first came out of her mouth weren't exactly soothing, more demanding, but it seemed the most direct way to go.

She reached out her hand, slowly, but knowingly. Besides, it was only Toby, right?

The direct approach, of course, didn't exactly work.

"DON'T MOVE! I'll kill you, I swear I will!" Toby directed the gun again to Mrs. Lovett's forehead, then snapped it back to the barber, obviously seeing him more as a threat. The barber and baker could see the sweat forming on his forehead. He was nervous as hell. He didn't know what he was doing, not truly. But he was doing it.

All Mrs. Lovett did was snap her arm down at her side, and breathe in deeply before saying in disbelief, "What's gotten into you?"

The air thickened and Toby quickly and silently took in the faces of the two. Mr. Todd was unchanged, stiff and angry, and plotting. The gun will certainly stay set on him. He'll die first. He deserved it first. But his mum…Mrs. Lovett (calling her mum now…just didn't seem right. She didn't act like a mum. She didn't treat him like her son…not really), she'd still die. Just second. She'd watch her love go, just millisecond before the bullet penetrated her too. Toby let a satisfied smile slip across his lips at the thought.

Toby looked Mrs. Lovett straight in the eyes, his gaze hurting her even more then she imagined the bullet from the gun would.

There was no regret or question about what Toby knew he was doing. So he was just going to say it.

"I told myself it wasn't your fault," he started, bitterness hanging off the end of each word, "As I lay down in those bloody _filthy _sewers, I told myself that you didn't do anything." The boy laughed resentfully as he shook his head. "I told myself that it was Mr. T. That he…he hypnotized you or…put a spell on you or something. Told myself that _my_ mum…my _loving…caring mum _would never… _cook_ people into pies!" His voice was soft and low, but it held so much hatred with it. It bit into Mrs. Lovett's skin. She already felt guilty for leaving Toby and lying to him, but here he was, just making it worse. Just like he planned.

Toby went on, "But… I saw what was in that bake house… and I…_ate_ what was in that bake house…I now see," he chuckled. The sound triggered chills to run the length of Mrs. Lovett's body, causing her whole frame to begin to shake. "I was wrong."

Toby stood up straighter. He saw the power he now held over her. She no longer could tell him what to do. He smiled at the feeling and glared down at her even harder, like a disapproving abusive parent. All Toby wanted was control. And boy, did he have it.

"No form of _magic _or hypnosis did this…No. You did it all…on…your…own."

The baker drew back, suddenly feeling so small, so young. Too young to die, it abruptly seemed. Especially by the bullet of someone who she'd only ever tried to help. But she had made a few mistakes in that category… Love blinded her so much. Too much. She now sees that it's her downfall. It was always bound to be.

"Oh wait," the lad muttered, after waiting several seconds just to frighten her with the dead air. He craned and rolled his head (rather disturbingly) until his eyes fell onto the other person in the room. Mr. T, still sitting, unchanged. Toby wasn't afraid to blather on. He would torture them before they died, he'd make them stare down the barrel of his gun for as long as it took. They killed so many people without warning, so he was _blessing _them with the warning before their own deaths. I mean, it's only fair, right?

"Now, I remember…now I remember why you did it…for him. For the demon. Cause you _love_ the demon." He was glaring at Sweeney, spitting the words at him.

But suddenly, his eyes darted back to her, playing a bouncing game between the two pale faces. "More then you'll ever bloody LOVE ME! Despite everything I've done for you and the lack of support you've gotten from him. You just can't help yourself can you?!" After the outburst Toby took in a deep breath. He bit into his lower lip as he closed his eyes as if he were resisting the urge to just rip them both open with his bare hands. When he opened them again, they were rolled back, and the site made Mrs. Lovett think that he really was possessed by a demon. But she could tell by the way the boy talked (believe it or not) that this was all Toby. No other person could tell this all like him. Only he knew the whole story.

Letting out a sigh, Toby caught Mrs. Lovett's eyes again, sparkling with fear.

"You love him so much that you were willing…you were willing to kill _me_ for _him_…KILL ME! The only one who could ever really care for you! The one that you supposedly loved! The one you told that nothing was going to harm! And I promised nothing would ever harm you either!" Tears sprouted at the corner of the boys eyes. It was hard for him…when he really thought about it. But it was too late to turn back. It was all too late. The tears spilled over and ran down the boy's cheeks, cleaning the dirt on it in streaks. "You didn't keep you're promise. So I see no reason to keep mine."

Through Toby's whole rant, the gun he was holding tightly with both of his hands had, without him noticing, been lowered a few inches as his arms grew tired. The baker figured that if she'd take the gun, perhaps Toby could be calmed down easier. If she could get in a word about how sorry she truly was, perhaps he would understand…and it wouldn't have to end like this… So when the boy-demon's eyes closed for a moment to clean them from the blurring vision the tears were causing…she reached up her hand to push down the gun.

"NO!" he shouted, having noticed.

Her arm flew back down as a gasp escaped her throat. She wasn't gasping entirely from the blast that she had just gotten from Toby, but when she set her hand back down on the parlor couch, it met with Mr. Todd's. And his cold skin automatically sensed hers and grasped it tightly. If she was in any other situation than this, Mrs. Lovett figured she'd faint from the gesture, but she was all too alert at the moment.

He held the gun up higher now, at her head again and this time, his body tensed. He was ready to shoot, she could tell, he was ready…

"Well now…I don't have to worry about you two anymore...Society doesn't have to worry about you. They will be _relieved _of you."

Toby figured every once in a while (or perhaps too often) the law just isn't good enough. And you have to take it into your own hands. Mr. Todd, of all people, should understand that.

"_I _don't have to be afraid of you anymore." Toby spoke the words to Mrs. Lovett, although she'd like to believe it was directed more to Mr. Todd.

"So Mrs. Lovett…" Toby whispered, the t's clicking bitterly. "Mr. Todd…"

He eyed them both and brought the gun up higher. In line with their heads, in line with his line of vision. Oh god…he was aiming…

"Now…you will join the ghosts that haunt you."

And he pulled the trigger. Once. Twice.

* * *

Told you so. Intense.

I Loved seeing your reviews last time! Go ahead and do that again, I won't mind!


	11. XI

**Thanks toooo…**

**Rainbow Username, Random Guest Reviewer person, Dionne dance, Noodlemantra, Another Random Guest Reviewer person, Helen Young, oh ANOTHER random guest reviewer person!, paigelidsey97, KaliBella, and Jillian the porcelain maiden!**

**Ah so many! So happy!**

**This is my favorite chapter hope you guys like it too!**

**I really tried to make it shorter but I figured that would be a little torturous to you guys…and you've already waited so long!**

**Chapter 11**

* * *

There.

The deed was done.

It was over with, finished.

Yes…_finally_.

Toby sighed to the black before his eyes.

Because perhaps he wasn't like Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd who can sta…could…who _could_ stand the site of blood every day.

The boy had squeezed shut his eyes and fired – once - twice…

And the world was relieved of the two.

No more secrets or…murders or conspiracies, between the pair.

The deed was done.

Toby planned to feel himself out of the room so he didn't have to look…at all. He planned to leave everything…and everyone…behind. He could fend for himself on the streets. He knew he could.

But something stopped him.

Not the regret he should have been feeling. Not the tears he should have been shedding. Not even stumbling over something on the way out.

What stopped him…was the soft whimpering of someone.

A woman's whimpering.

Mrs. Lovett's whimpering.

So instead…Toby's eyes shot open.

There the two both sat. Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett. Eye's squeezed shut, bodies tense and waiting…

In that moment that Toby saw the barber and the baker, they both looked so vulnerable. Even Mr. Todd looked like he had given up; accepted the fact that he was going to die. Even in Nellie's arms.

Toby's eyes grew wide with surprise and confusion. Hadn't he fired the gun? He did, he was sure of it. He heard the ear-shattering explosion. He felt the jolt between his two sweaty palms.

As Toby looked confused at the pistol in his hands, the two on the couch opened their eyes also. Toby glanced up briefly as if to check to make sure they weren't running away (or after him). He watched Mrs. Lovett as she blinked several tears out of her eyes to find out she was unharmed after the gun shots. He watched Mr. Todd look up bitterly at the boy because of the pistol still pointed at him.

But the young boy could barely stand to look at the faces as their hatred for him glowed off of them, so he fumbled to load the gun yet again. A strange noise escaped the back of his throat in his desperation as he almost dropped the weapon.

Toby flung his arm forward and this time shot with his eyes open.

Left-once.

Load

Right-once.

The two still sitting on the couch flinched again, and still…no blood resulted.

Toby pulled his eyebrows together even tighter as his eyes grew so big that it made his head ache. He struck the gun against his palm. His heart began to race. What was going on? What was happening? Could he have simply missed so many times?

All three could tell that the bullets were leaving the revolver, but no wounds showed…which meant that something was very wrong.

Toby wasn't just nervous about ending the barber and the baker's lives anymore, now he was scared for his own life. But nothing could be done anymore because the pistol was out of ammunition.

In a tense moment of frustration, Toby flung the gun to the ground, the metal clanking and skidding across the wooden floor. His gaze absentmindedly followed the object as he ran his hand through his hair and squinted his eyes in utter confusion over the situation.

When Sweeney could no longer see the flames that had been emitting from the boys eyes, his mind suddenly became aware again. For perhaps in that moment in front of the pistol, Sweeney had just given up. It was really no surprise when you think about it, he had lost all reason to live a long time ago and lost his will to live with it. But for some bloody reason the boy had failed to assist him in taking him out of his misery now a _second_ time.

So, Mr. T quickly figured, why give him the chance to disappoint him again?

He didn't have an exact plan. Perhaps the demon thought it would come at the right time. But in that instant, as Toby stared inquisitively at the revolver, Sweeney lunged for the boy.

Seeing Mr. Todd's shadow dance on the wall behind him, Toby glanced up and took immediate action. In the millisecond where all the lad saw was the demon barber's glowing pale features coming toward him with hatred and determination, the only thing he knew was the razor in his right pocket. So he quickly reached for the cold silver and, without a second thought, whipped it open and hurled it at the barber.

Toby and Nellie both took to closing their eyes at the moment where the sharp object was to meet skin. But instead of the sound of perhaps a deep, sickening _thunk_, a clanking noise sounded at the back of the room. Both pairs of eyes instantly opened in surprise.

Toby's neck snapped between the apparent incorrect path of the knife and the barber. Sweeney was, to the boy's surprise, looking at the razor sitting on the floor behind him, with shock covering his features.

But, as if in the same moment, both of the boys were reminded of the circumstances and were sent by their thirst for blood scrambling in a race to the razor.

Mrs. Lovett simply sat and watched the two. Through it all, the baker felt paralyzed. The only sound being her heart and quick breaths echoing in her ears. The only movement being the rattling of her bones and hands. And she sat there until the action moved behind the couch, where she shot up and briskly turned around. She watched, terrified, as the two boys she loved fought over whose demise would come first. She stared, wide-eyed, as Toby kicked and clawed at the barber and Sweeney fought back with equal intensity. They both looked like a couple of angry cats as they viciously fought for the shining weapon.

Nellie backed up slowly, each step heavily clunking behind the other one, struggling to keep her footing as the whole situation made her light-headed. She back-stepped all of the way until she hit the fireplace, the cold air flowing out of it freezing the baker.

A sudden chill shook her body and when she recovered and looked back up, she was terrified to see that one of the boys had the upper-hand. He raised the razor high, the blade shinning. Nellie couldn't take the idea of seeing the one she loved meet his match at last. So she covered her moist face with her hands and turned around, not being able to keep back the scream that escaped her throat.

After the sound of metal slicing the thick air, dead silence encircled the parlor. And Nellie felt it only right to open her eyes to deal with the horror head on.

But as she uncovered her face, she was too horrified about what she saw right in front of her to turn back around and care about Sweeney or Toby at the moment.

The woman began to shake even harder as she, almost subconsciously, reached up with her hand and touched her cheek.

"Mr. T…" she struggled to mumble, but her voice was lost in the shock and it only came out as a high pitched whisper.

"WHAT _IS _THIS!?" rang through the parlor from Mr. Todd. He wasn't yelling at her though, and Mrs. Lovett knew this.

Nellie spun around, observing the barber glaring at Toby who had just been under the barber's mercy, but who was still alive. Sweeney was looking at his hand where the razor was gripped tightly. His eyebrows were pulled as close as they would go.

But Mrs. Lovett didn't care why. She regained her voice and shouted, louder this time, "MR. T!"

Like a pouting, fed up child, Mr. Todd stood up and stamped his foot roughly on the ground as he looked up frustrated at the baker.

"_What_?!" he shouted back, his mind momentarily being taken off of his failed stabbing at the lad.

But Nellie didn't need to say anything before the barber could see what she was yelling so desperately about. He squinted his eyes and slowly, he made his way to the right of Mrs. Lovett. The baker also moved slowly, like the world was suddenly spinning in slow motion, as she turned again to look back into the mirror.

There they both stood for some amount of agonizingly slow, breathless seconds, both with a simple look of bewilderment on their faces.

Toby scrambled to stand up as soon as Sweeney was no longer leaning hauntingly over him. But as he looked back at the two adults staring at the mirror, mesmerized, he couldn't help but mutter out a, "What? What is it?"

Neither of them really heard his voice, the whole world around seemed to just shut down.

It wasn't about what they _did _see in the refection…it was about what they _didn't _see…

As Toby slowly strolled up behind the two, he could understand why both of them looked the way they did.

"We're not there," Toby said, being the only one cable anymore of talking.

And it was true. None of the three standing in front of the circular mirror above the fireplace…had a reflection. "We're invisible!" said Toby again, trying to decide what this meant, and if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Probably not terrific, he thought.

Suddenly it hit him…"We're…"

Mrs. Lovett couldn't stand herself standing there so lamely, so she cautiously lifted up her arm and raised it to the glass in front of her face. She wanted to touch it…perhaps the mirror was just playing a joke on them. Messing with the three's eyes and minds. But as the gloved hand moved forward, the only result confirmed her worry. She gasped and her eyes darted from where they would be looking straight into hers had she had a reflection to where her hand was. Besides the fact that he hand didn't have another hand gliding on the opposite toward it, she gasped because…her hand went straight through the solid object.

Her mind regained reality, _if this was indeed reality_, as she found that the boys were looking at her just as horrified as she imagined her expression must look.

"We're dead…" Mrs. Lovett muttered…finishing Toby's sentence and finally figuring what all this meant…

Suddenly, something in the room was completely different.

The light seemed to change, the temperature seemed to change, the overall atmosphere seemed to change.

When Mrs. Lovett looked again at Mr. Todd, who was still standing next to her, she couldn't help but scream.

Her hands flew up to stifle the sound as she took in the new site that the barber illustrated. The whole front of his body was bright red, covered in fresh, sparkling ruby. A cut that looked deep enough to be fatal ran through his throat, and it all snaked down the curves of his body, making his clothes stick to his skin, and gave him an even worse appearance. Other blood covered his arms and his head, dry and crusty. Not fresh…not his. But this blood obviously wasn't at all shed in here, it was from that night in the bake-house.

Sweeney ran his eyes down his body as he surveyed the blood that covered him. Even he was very much frightened with the appearance he suddenly portrayed.

Suddenly, Mrs. Lovett was flooded with the overwhelming, throat choking smell of smoke. She looked away from Sweeney and looked down at her own skirt. She watched as burning, crispy flakes at the end of her dress disintegrated, embers burning an orange, hot, thin line at the edge as it all disappeared up to her knee. Even after it stopped the ends still remained burning and flakey. The disappearance of her dress reveled badly scorched flesh beyond the fabric. Her shoes were gone, her socks were burnt away, and all that remained now was the deadly looking burns. And as Mrs. Lovett blinked back the tears forming in her eyes and lifted her hands to her face, there, at eye level, she was terrified to see her hands and arms covered in the same, disgusting, peeling, burnt skin.

"Oh my god…" Mrs. Lovett muttered as more holes appeared in dress in random spots, all revealing dark, shriveled, scorched skin.

Nellie looked up, the world now just a blur behind the layer of tears covering her eyes. From the look Sweeney was giving her, the horrified eyes, the frightened look she'd never thought she'd see on him, she could tell that her face didn't look any better than the rest of her body.

Toby staggered backward, wide eyed and frightened of the two. Mrs. Lovett with her disturbingly burnt skin, Mr. Todd with the bright red rubies covering his body.

But Toby soon remembered himself… He turned his hands over and over in front of him, running his eyes down his body…searching for some reason that his reflection was also among the ones hidden in the mirror.

Suddenly remembering, the boy ran for the cellar doors, making it his mission to see if there was the presence of anything still lying at the bottom of those steps…

Exchanging one glance filled with hurt and confusion, the barber and the baker scuttled after Toby, not being able to comprehend fully what was happening to them. Mrs. Lovett even habitually lifted her dress as she ran after the boy, but she knew she didn't have to, she could no longer feel the full weight of it on her shoulders. In fact, she couldn't feel the weight of anything at the moment, not ever her own weight seemed to be present.

The two got to the small hallway between the parlor and the pie shop in time to watch Toby whip open the heavy cellar doors and freeze in horror.

There, at the bottom of the steps, with his limbs in a horribly painful looking position, and a small trickle of blood in a pool on the floor, was a lifeless Toby.

"That's me…" Toby mumbled in horror from atop the flight. He didn't even realize he'd moved at all until he found himself at the bottom of the stairs, kneeling next to his body.

"When…when I fell down the stairs…" he trailed off and looked up at the barber and the baker, looking horrified and frozen at the top of the stairs. "I don't feel any different!" he choked as the back of his throat began to ache tremendously. "Do I look any different?" he asked, his words bumpy.

He glanced back down at the boy on the cold, cement floor beneath him. It was undoubtedly Tobias Ragg. Dingy brown hair, dark, innocent eyes, small, all too fragile body. There was no use denying it. It was him. It was his body.

"Sometimes a head injury…doesn't look like much…" Sweeney mumbled to everyone's surprise.

Nellie still couldn't find words. She couldn't find the strength beneath the heaviness in her chest. Because maybe she couldn't feel anything physically all of the sudden, but that only made the emotional heaviness weigh a million times more.

Mr. Todd started a sharp descent down the stairs, eager to creak open the heavy bake house door and see what lay beyond it.

"Wait! Mr. T!" Mrs. Lovett called, her voice cracking as he turned around, annoyance now being the only thing covering his face. She gulped and muttered out, "I don't want to see what's down there…"

Mr. Todd glared at her, staring the deathly daggers straight into her chest. "There's nothing to see of you, pet," he grumbled and walked the rest of the way down.

Mrs. Lovett swallowed her tears painfully and followed the barber.

Nothing much registered for the baker after she reached the bottom step and her bare feet failed to feel the chill of the bake house floor. She remembered slightly the red blood still splattered on the wall. She remembered slightly watching Mr. Todd as he drug his feet over to where his body sat, still cradling his dead wife in his arms. She remembered thinking how Mr. Todd had spent his last seconds hoping he'd hold his real Lucy like this as soon as the pain stopped…but here he was. She remembered watching Mr. Todd kneel on the other side of the two dead bodies, and bow his head, mirroring his own corpse.

And Mrs. Lovett remembered spinning around, her eyes darting from Toby at the bottom of the stairs, to the bloody chute in the ceiling, to Mr. Todd, to the bake oven, still teasing her with its flames burning hot, to the meat grinder and back again.

And Nellie remembered repeating over and over, "I don't understand…I don't understand…I don't understand…" Only this time, her voice didn't echo off of the bake house walls…

* * *

**Tehehe Happy Halloween!**

**But don't fret to much! The story isn't even close to being over!**

**Pop me a review!**


	12. XII

**Oh no...too many thanks to remember. How about a thanks to whoever is still reading after waiting for so long!**

* * *

A blur

A blur

A foggy, hot blur

Not hot like that makes you sweat or that can easily be relieved by fanning yourself.

Hot like the kind that makes you pull away. Hot that burns blue and dark purple.

A blur

_I don't understand…I touched things…I handled objects, I moved things_

A foggy blur

_I just don't understand. I felt things. I felt cold I felt warm. I felt my heart beating in my chest_

A hot blur

_I don't understand. I don't remember dying, I don't remember dying, I don't remember dying… _

These thoughts were all Nellie really make out at that moment, among small other details. Like the fact that she had folded in on herself and was kneeling now on the bloody floor, her nose only inches from the liquid rubies. Her arms wrapped around her stomach. Her fingers clawed at her back to hold on. She noticed her breathing quick and sudden. Like she was being smuggled, or drowning. She gasped and gasped, she simply couldn't catch her breath. And then she stopped herself and remembered- she didn't have the breath to catch.

Her eyes blurred and her world rocked as she struggled to lift her head.

Had she fainted? Can you really faint when you're…

She lifted her head, and her short, charred curls fell against her face. She could feel the fiery auburn hair as it tickled her cheekbone. She could even feel it burn a little bit on her face, like her fiery red hair really was fiery to the touch.

But…how is that possible?

Nellie looked up, her neck craning though her body didn't seem to have the energy. Suddenly, she could see something emerging from the dark corner of the bake house.

Something bright…so bright that the baker had to squint…so bright it looked white.

Mrs. Lovett suddenly felt a pull in her chest. Like a string had been connected to her heart and it was pulling her toward the light. But something made a sound behind her and her neck snapped back to see Mr. Todd…also looking wide-eyed at the scene in front of him, and the sensation was gone. Nellie gazed back toward the light.

Suddenly, out of the circle of white flooding the corner, an image appeared. The image of a person…a short…a young person. A young girl, in a dress. Suddenly, she was standing only a few feet from the bakers head, in plain view and much easier to see now that the white behind her had faded away.

The young girl smiled down at Nellie, her face annoyingly cheerful. She was as pale as the light had been itself. Almost white skin, the brightest blond hair you've ever seen, and a spotless white dress. Sequins sparkled on the fabric, seeming to emit their own light instead of reflecting the room's. The dress had a white, silky strap around the little girl's waist that became long and flowed behind her, never seeming to end. And the girl's face was thin and frail looking, but the smile she held kept her up, kept her looking strong.

"How'd you get here?" Sweeney's voice broke the surreal moment.

The young girl's bright yellow eyes floated to the barber, who was now standing up behind the still bent over baker.

"I can feel I'm here to help you." Her voice matched her light appearance. It was smooth, small and high, like she was forcing her voice all up into her nose. But it was natural and comforting at the same time.

She looked down at Mrs. Lovett and extended her glowing hand with a smile. Hesitating briefly, Nellie took the small hand and stood up, feeling very self-conscious in front of the very beautiful girl. Mrs. Lovett normally wouldn't think that of a little girl - Little girls were cute, and innocent. But not beautiful. But there was something about this girl…she seemed beyond her own years…beyond even Nellie's years…she made the baker feel so small.

Through the confusion, Mrs. Lovett felt a sense of reassurance in the girl - like she was the answer to all their problems.

"Love?" she asked, finding her voice, though it was dry and it cracked, "Are…are you like us?"

The girl softly pulled her eyebrows together, her face somehow still holding understanding even as she said, "What do you mean?"

Oh, she was going to make her say it. Mrs. Lovett looked around, avoiding the little girl's eyes. She didn't want to have to say it, but she could feel the words rising in her throat, she couldn't help it as she swallowed hard and displayed a desperate face.

"Are you _dead_?"

"Hm…why yes, I was alive once…not too long ago in fact," she responded, her face calm and reassuring even as she spoke of herself.

"Oh…love…" the baker sighed in empathy, "You're so young."

"It's alright," said the soft voice. "My father and I were in the marketplace one day a while ago. He told me he was going to go down the street to get a shave, and for me to stay there. He said he'd only be a few minutes. Well I waited and waited but he never came back. I waited until dark and everyone was gone and it was cold. I still waited for him right where he wanted me to be. The last thing I remember is a shadow coming toward me," she finished, her voice the same soft tone through it all.

Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but throw back a blank but meaningful expression to Sweeney when she heard '_was going to go down the street to get a shave'. _

But Nellie turned back and masked her face - it was all too easy for her to do even now.

"Oh, darling… I'm so sorry," the baker choked back, feeling tears grouping in the back of her throat. The poor…young dear.

The girl's eyes darted to meet the baker's. They were wide and almost frightening, yet calming. "It's alright, it doesn't hurt anymore. No one can ever hurt me like that again."

"What's your name, love?" Mrs. Lovett spoke up again, knowing neither of the boys behind her were likely to speak.

"Annabella, ma'am. And you're Nellie. Eleanor really, but never particularly liked that name."

Mrs. Lovett smiled softly. Somehow, it seemed only right that the girl knew her name. She nodded, softly.

The baker continued, "Darling, why did you come here?"

"I'm not sure. I almost just felt like I was pulled here. Like someone wanted me to be here," she said. She said she didn't know, but her body held the posture like she did. She knew her purpose, even if it was perhaps just subconsciously.

Yes… this young girl was wise. She knew things…she was different…she was beyond something or another.

"Annabella…" Nellie didn't want to seem rude for asking (it seemed she had asked so many things already!) "…what are you?"

She answered fluent, like she had been asked thousands of times, "Some call me a light spirit. Some call me an angle."

Mrs. Lovett almost laughed at the notion…an angle? Really? Resisting the urge to role her eyes, she joked out, "And you prefer?"

"Annabella is just fine, ma'am," she responded with a smile. And Nellie could suddenly feel it then. She wasn't joking, she wasn't messing with their heads. This young girl in front of her was a light spirit. A light ghost. Sent to help them. Nellie could feel it all now. It seemed to make sense…didn't it? There are just so many learning curves to this whole…ghost thing.

Wiping any looks of disbelief off of her face, the baker solemnly smiled and calmed a bit. Not a lot, just enough to quiet the loud, confused, blurred together thoughts bouncing around in her skull. Just enough to remember where she really was and turn around and see Toby looking as small and fragile as ever, hiding in the shadows of the bake house, she could see the fear in his eyes. The regret that was apparent in the way he kept his head low, the way his face tensed. He knew there was no good reason for him to be here. There was no reason for his mum to love him anymore.

Nellie watched the boy as he avoided her gaze. She wondered about Toby now that she had a second to think about it.

He had tried to kill her.

_Nothings gonna harm you_

He had held a gun to her head and been determined to pull the trigger on her.

_Not while I'm around_

He had believed that ending her life was the right thing to do.

_Demons'll charm you with a smile _

He was happy he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.

_For a while but in time…_

All because she had done the same to him first…

And now _he's _the one feeling this guilt eat him up inside?

"Come closer, lad," came the soft, white voice, "You're mum forgives you now."

There surly was something different about this little girl. Toby saw it now too. As she spoke the words, the cold bake house turned warm and loving. And the clouds of hatred that fogged up around his mum cleared away to reveal her sad smile. The boy stepped forward, and Nellie could see the truthfulness and honesty that his step held that it didn't before.

Toby came closer, rather fast, and just about threw himself into Nellie's arms. She hugged him back, wishing that they were still alive so she could feel his warmth.

As they broke their hug, Nellie let an appreciative smile curl on her lips and Annabella's eyes sparkled as she nodded a 'You're Welcome'.

And Mr. T…what about Mr. T?

He had gone back to mourn over his own death. He had heard the word "angel" and immediately despised the girl. If an angel was sent to help them, why wasn't his Lucy here instead? Why was the only thing left of his beautiful yellow haired wife the horribly dead corpse on the bake house floor?

Something whispered to Mrs. Lovett to just let him be now. Just let him think what he wants to think for now.

"So…" the baker said, inhaling a heavy breath as she felt the air grow heavy around them. "What did you say brought you here, again?"

"I'm here to help you understand."

"Well that's nice because we're bloody confused!" Nellie mumbled with a chuckle. She wished that her joking was less for a defensive and more for just a plain laugh. She nodded, ready for what was coming next.

At the movement of Mrs. Lovett's head, the light spirit went on, as if she knew the conversation like it had already happened. "What would you like to know?"

Her voice was like an echoing beckon for floods of questions the three didn't even knew they wanted to ask, to come into their minds. Even as Sweeney leaned over his dead wife and dead self, the only question he now had wasn't just _Where's Lucy? _There was more_. _

Toby was the first to speak, his voice slicing through the thick air, "How come we don't remember dying?"

Of course, the obvious. Perhaps if Mrs. Lovett had never had the mind to look in the mirror the three would have continued to live their afterlife as if it was indeed life. Never hungry, never tiered, always angry…

"Well sometimes," Annabella began, her tone sounding as if it had come from the clouds itself. "When a person's death is very violent and sudden or…unexpected…" she spoke slowly, stopping to glance around the room.

Violent? Check

Sudden? Check

Unexpected? (oh so, blissfully unexpected) Check

"Often to cope with these things a person just plain…forgets. They focus, subconsciously, on the things that make sense. The things that seem…well, human."

Nellie nodded, slowly for her mind wasn't at this time anymore. It was back - back to the feelings of sitting in the bottom of the bake oven - back further to the sensation of the flames.

She looked down at herself, at the burnt skin. She hadn't escaped - she had died - then planned an escape to make it seem like she had.

Of course, she remembers now. It all flooded back to like she was recalling a horrible night terror. Only…up until this time, she had been sleeping, dreaming the good things. And now she was awake…and it was all too clear.

She remembers dying

The fear - the pain - the numbing

She remembers watching Mr. Todd die.

She remembers the 'thud' of a small body hitting cold cement.

She remembers watching the demon going upstairs, watching the demon go upstairs - leaving himself behind.

And that's all.

Then she remembers sitting next to Toby upstairs trying to pretend like all the horror was over - honestly believing it.

Nellie let her eyes float back up to where Annabella stood, only now it was different. The physicality in itself wasn't different, but still what she saw was different. It was all real. All believable. All here, but beyond her grasp.

In short - she now saw - she was dead.

Gliding her gaze to Toby, she saw he felt it all now also.

And it hurt.

To know you'll never grow a day older.

To know you'll never again feel joys of delicious food or the warm sun on your face.

To know your dreams will never come true - moving by the sea - simply growing up to start a happy family.

Oh, it bloody hurt.

"But I still don't understand."

The low, tear choked voice broke Mrs. Lovett and Toby from their pity. Looking behind them, they could see Mr. Todd now standing tall. Now under their gazes, the barber looked down like a shy school boy. Perhaps because of the weakness he felt now that he was on the other side of the razor.

He didn't continue, but Mrs. Lovett somehow understood what he was thinking. She kept her eyes glued on the barber as she fed his question to the young spirit, "Why does it feel so much like we were alive then?"

Sweeney's eyes flickered up to meet Nellie's for only a moment. She wasn't sure exactly what it was supposed to mean but it still made her heart leap. She shook her head and turned away - it wasn't the time to think about what could have happened if Toby had chosen a few minutes later to cock the pistol.

Nellie continued - "I could feel my heartbeat," she swallowed, "I still can…I could feel myself breathing - or being short of breath. Like it was all real. I could move things. How did I do that…I mean why did I do that?"

"It's another coping mechanism. You used your energy to move things, which you may notice that you don't have much of anymore. You feel tiered? Like you've been drained?" Drained? Yes…everything just seemed so overwhelming all of the sudden. "You get energy from things like light, other people, or even each other. And you use it to do things that ghosts wouldn't normally be able to do. Now that you know you're dead, it's harder to get it without thinking about it." Annabella answered with a smile. Then, suddenly shifting her gaze to Sweeney she added, "Still don't believe, Mr. Benjamin Barker?"

At her words, Sweeney's eyes grew large and his dark brows grew nearer together. Mrs. Lovett recognized the fire in his eyes as fire that like to harm and resisted the urge to flee the area. Those two words always seemed to make him blood thirsty.

"Why do you call me that?" he growled from the shadows.

All of a sudden, the light spirit disappeared, leaving a glow where she had stood. Just as suddenly, she reappeared behind the barber, lighting up his dark section of the bake house.

"It's who you are, is it not?" sang her small voice.

Mr. Todd spun around, staying on the defense even now.

"Not for a long time little girl. That man is dead, it's time you learn this," he sneered, lifting his head up and glaring down at the small child.

Annabella didn't feel the pressure of his gaze. Instead she smiled and said, "His mind-set might be dead. And his…" she looked the barber over "…appearance might be dead. You might have even hushed him in here." With this, she lifted her arm and placed her small, pale hand on his chest - where his heart would be if Sweeney Todd did in fact have one.

The barber flinched slightly, but for some reason remained - for the young girls touch was warm and comforting. He even felt something positive leave when she brought her hand back to her side.

"But you know he's still in there," she continued, looking deeply into his eyes. "And there's something he used to say to a certain yellow haired wife… do you remember?"

"Stop it," was all he muttered, so Annabella took the liberty to quote him herself. " 'Lucy dear, tell me, can a ghost really move an object all on its own? Can it really be seen by ordinary people, like you and me? Can a heart's beat be heard even after it has stopped beating? Of course not love, so there's nothing to be frightened about.' Yes? You didn't believe in any of this before, huh sir? Can you maybe disprove now what you said so long ago?"

"Stop it," he choked out again, feeling weak tears grow in his throat, feeling his face twitch in anger.

Annabella did nothing but smile at the barber and walk away. She made her way back over to Nellie and Toby, perhaps enjoying their company more.

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**soooo...anybody still there?**


	13. XIII

Mrs. Lovett closed her eyes and thought about everything now.

She had questions, but they all seemed to be answered now in an instant.

Why did I keep smelling smoke? Because I'm dead.

Why did people ignore me while I was running around on the streets? Because I'm dead.

How did all the pots and pans in the pie shop fail to hit me? Because I'm dead.

Why did Toby not become harmed when he fell from the chair? Because he's dead.

Why did everything just seem so….different. Because I'm dead. And death is different…

Nellie closed her eyes tightly shut, as if it could shut out the world and wake her up from this nightmare. Everyone had these nightmares, ones where we know we're dreaming and we can wake ourselves up. But there'll come a time for all of us where we can try, but we won't. No matter how hard we wish, or bargain, or cry.

The baker took in a deep breath and let the air out slowly. It still didn't make any sense. She thought after you…well…well then you can't breathe. Perhaps she's not breathing. Perhaps it's just another bloody coping mechanism.

_Why must I think up these things that mess so with my mind?_

_Ha…oh yeah. Cause I'm dead. _

"Now what?" whispered Toby. His voice seemed to read the baker's mind. Now what? What's next if you can never wake up?

"It's time for me to go," Annabella mumbled. Toby and Mrs. Lovett felt a twinge in them at the thought of the light spirit departing. But she can't. She was their only hope it seemed, their only way, it seemed. Their only light.

"Where?" Mrs. Lovett asked, barely opening her mouth to do so.

"Where I've already been. To the place I've already seen."

The baker recalled the bright light that the young girl had come through into the bake house. Could it be here she was speaking of?

"You guys will go there soon too. It's only right. And you have people waiting…"

So what she was feeling wasn't total rubbish. The pull Nellie was feeling toward the light, the love that seemed to come from it. It wasn't her confusion and half-conscious state that felt this. It was actually there. Actually floating through the air like a beckon.

"People waiting?" Toby asked.

"Why, yes….Lad, I've seen the parents you never knew, eagerly awaiting your return to them. They love you, I can feel it."

Toby's eyes grew large as his eyebrows pulled together. Parents? He barely knew the meaning of the word. And love? Love didn't exist. Love was fake and it was always given more to someone else. Put the two words together and it seemed near impossible. But…perhaps…just impossible enough to be true. Toby pondered on this while Annabella turned to Mrs. Lovett

"You. I've seen your parents and your husband."

_Albert. Mother and father and Albert. _

Mrs. Lovett thought. Did she miss them? Did they miss her? Was that them yearning in the light for her, begging her to come closer? Or was that her own natural feeling toward somewhere that just seemed so peaceful. Albert, mother, and father, waiting.

The baker glanced back at the barber.

She knew that if the three of them really loved her. If they were in her spot and were seeing the broken man in front of them, they would understand why the light became all the less appealing to her all of the sudden.

"And you…" Annabella spoke louder, facing Sweeney. "A beautiful yellow haired wife. Just as you remember her too. All aliments are left behind in the light. Good to know isn't it?"

Mrs. Lovett didn't know exactly what the barber was thinking, but she knew her own dead heart leaped in her chest. Lucy. Lucy's there. Surly he'll want to go to this mysterious place now. With his wife so in his reach!

But he didn't budge.

And Annabella continued.

"I must go into it now," she said, glancing over her shoulder and smiling. Nellie saw nothing, not like she saw before at least.

"Into what?" she wondered aloud.

"Into the light," the angel continued, eyes glued behind her and away from the three. Amazement echoed in her voice. The kind that made you want just a taste of whatever she was feasting on.

But Mrs. Lovett could only glance around at the two other ghosts in the room and mumble, "We see no light."

"You won't…" Annabella answered quickly, once again as if expecting the response. She turned back to the three, catching each of them in the eyes. Even Sweeney. "Not until you have completed your unfinished business and are ready. You will see it."

Unfinished business? What business could a dead body possibly have in this rat whole of a town? Perhaps none. But a soul could sure have a lot, the baker reminded herself as she glanced at the barber still leaning over the blood soaked floors.

Annabella looked behind her again and her face seemed to become brighter and paler (if that was indeed possible). But more than anything, it looked happier.

"You'll know," she sighed and it sounded as if her breath was literally being taken away, "…it's beautiful…"

"But, Annabella…" Nellie shouted quickly, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see what the girl saw. To feel the light on her face. The longing seemed to overcome the love for the barber, like nothing ever had before. It seemed to overcome the dark bake house and for a second, perhaps a sliver of the light even came through for the baker.

The only answer she got was, "Goodbye now!" And Annabella began to take steps toward her destination.

But a small voice halted her.

"Wait!…I see it…"

The baker's neck snapped in the direction of the small voice.

"Toby…" Nellie choked out when she saw him. She saw the lad…smiling. And she thought about it. Really thought about it…and concluded that she had never really seen him smile. Not purely. Not like a boy his age should be smiling. Not like he really was now.

"Good lad. Join me then?" Annabella simply said, anticipating his decision.

"Oh my goodness, it's amazing," was the only response she got from him. Mrs. Lovett watched in pure envy as Toby's spoke breathlessly of the thing before his eyes. Toby didn't move, perhaps he couldn't but his face was….so indescribable…that it told a million stories. It told about his becoming an orphan before he even knew what the words mother and father were. It told of terrible days with Pirelli and finding hope in his new Mum's eyes. It told of how he took matters into his own hands and tried to take over. It told how, ultimately, he failed. But most of all, it told how none of that mattered now. His face was bright and even. His eyes seemed to lighten and the darkness that his few years in London caused were wiped away. His bright complexion reminded Mrs. Lovett of the sea. Perhaps that's what the light is like.

The baker was jealous. How come she couldn't join Annabella and the boy in whatever display was dancing before their eyes. It was like being surrounded by everything you've ever wanted and not even being allowed to look at it.

It hurt.

"Come!" Annabella chimed, reaching out her small hand for Toby to take.

The young boy began to lift his hand to meet hers…but stopped. He let it fall back to his side and he turned around to face the baker. There was something he had to do. There was another piece of unfinished business that needed to be resolved before he could look any farther into the light.

When Toby turned around to face her, Nellie thought maybe he could drag her with him. Drag her into the happiness she so blindly couldn't see.

But instead, the boy sighed. And tears pricked at his bright eyes as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Mum. Really I am!"

Overwhelmed by everything, Mrs. Lovett grabbed the boy and wrapped him in a hug as tears streamed down her face. She knew she always loved this boy. He was something…he was special. He was the son Mrs. Lovett never had…he was the son she now did have. She had tried to kill him. He had tried to kill her. They were even, in a way. But none of that seemed to matter right now. She squeezed him tight, never wanting to let go. Now, for the first time, the baker simply didn't want to give him up. She wanted to hold him forever, to be able to hear him call her mum whenever she wanted, she wanted to have him tell her that nothing is going to harm her. to have him hold a gun to her head, she didn't care!

How come you never realize these things until it's too late to do anything? Until it's time to say goodbye?

"Aww…" The baker struggled to not start sobbing at the tender moment. "It's alright dear…" she continued as she broke the hug and noticed tears on the lad's cheeks also. She sniffed and continued with a smile, "In case you haven't noticed, I've got a nifty trait for forgiving men who have tried to kill me…" Then, after a quick side glance at Mr. Todd, "or have succeeded…"

Toby laughed and Nellie regretted not being able to hear the boys laugh more often. He turned around abruptly and eagerly. But then suddenly stopped.

He gazed harder into the light and his eyes became brighter, as yellow as Annabella's. Even the air seemed warm and fluffy.

Toby mumbled, almost out of words, it seemed, "I think…I think I see my mum…" He turned back to Mrs. Lovett, smiling so big it looked like it hurt. He pinned her in the eyes and the baker smiled back.

Toby chuckled again, "She's got the exact same smile you got."

The baker wasn't exactly sure what feeling washed over her after that. It seemed to be a feathery feeling everywhere. In her chest, around her stomach, even brushing up against her arms and legs. That was a weak way to describe it, but it was the only words she could find. Looking back, later she would realize it was the feeling of pure and innocent forgiveness. Giving forgiveness, receiving it. It was such a great feeling.

Toby finally took Annabella's glowing hand and his own skin seemed to illuminate. And "Come on Toby!" and "Mother! Father!" Rang and echoed through the bake house. And Toby and Annabella's small shapes slowly faded to nothing… And the darkness returned. And pretty soon the only sound was a hallow dripping somewhere deep in the sewers. And that seemed to all too well represent what the baker's life had now come to.

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**Just as an author note everyone, this story is already finished, so it definitely will all end up on here! I'm just rubbish at finding the time to actually update it! Thanks for sticking around the lot you!**

**Review it up!**


	14. XIV

**Thanks to SweeneyLover3, fox17hp, Helen Young, and NV Berke for proving to me that I still have readers!**

**Here's a chappy for you guys! :)**

**Chapter 14**

* * *

_"Stop it…stop it…"_

She did

She listened to him. But it was purely a hallow victory. Annabella had left, but the damage was already done.

And the small light girl had turned her back to him…as did everyone else.

Even Mrs. Lovett.

Strange…the barber couldn't help but think.

He had glued his eyes back on the frozen, horrible reminder of the last moments of his life, trying to pretend he didn't care about the other ghost.

"Love?"

The next thing Sweeney knew was a voice floating through the bake house. A call for him?

"Love? Mr. T?"

The barber looked up and it took a moment for his eyes to focus on the dim light. When it came in clear, he could make out Mrs. Lovett. She was standing in the threshold of the bake house, her hands grabbing the cold stone sides. She seemed to be clutching what suddenly appeared to be the doorway between life and death.

"Come on," she mumbled, turning her head toward Sweeney. He could see the teary sparkle in the bottom of her eyes. "Let's get out of this hell hole." And she started the walk upstairs, stretching her arms until they couldn't grip the bitter walls anymore.

Sweeney looked one last time at the bodies on the floor. Just bodies…the barber reminded himself. The souls are out there. These here…just bodies.

The demon drug himself out of the dark, dreary bake house. As he too passed the threshold, he used his angry energy to close and lock the heavy door behind him.

Besides the glow that above ground held and the lack of the smell of blood, the change from the bake house up to the parlor wasn't very drastic. The two could no longer feel the warmth that being beyond the walls of the bake house held, or the soft cushions of the couch below their bodies. They were just there.

And Nellie hated that. She hated sitting there and not being able to do anything! She couldn't bake now, she couldn't talk with Toby. She _could _sing. She _could _get up and twirl around the parlor singing about whatever came to mind. But even when she got so bored that she tried, coughs racked her voice and the choking smell of smoke made it impossible to have the energy to dance.

Which didn't make much sense to the baker.

Something just didn't want her happy.

Being dead was bloody awful.

And Sweeney just sat there, staring into space. It always made the baker wonder how on earth he could do this for hours.

Nellie wished now that the sulking barber had a shop to go and brood in. For she was beginning to feel like he was a weight tied to her ankles. He was keeping her put. He was holding her down. He was her unfinished business.

How…bothersome.

"You know Mr. T?" Mrs. Lovett started, "From what I've gathered from…the state…we're in…the last thing we should be going is sitting around…" she finished, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling and slowly back down to the barber. She looked at him with her mouth open and her eyes in astonishment at how he didn't even seem to hear her.

But she meant her statement seriously. The way Toby and Annabella disappeared and reappeared in a different sport was mind staggering. Instant transportation! They could go anywhere! See anything! Anyone! Endless sites - all free! How great!

But Nellie didn't even bother trying to explain this to Sweeney. He simply didn't care.

The baker sighed.

Just because the hopeless barber didn't want to talk about something interesting doesn't mean Nellie was going to let the moment meaninglessly go by.

Just because you have eternity doesn't mean you should waste it.

"Mr. T…?"

Silence. The lack of a response was no surprise. Nellie still waited a beat, hoping maybe he would acknowledge her? Nope.

She continued anyway. "Why are you still here?"

Silence was still the only thing that engulfed the barber and baker.

Silence.

Bloody silence.

The absence of sound.

The absence of concern. Of care.

It was more than just dead air-it was death itself.

"You aren't going to tell me are you?"

_Course not. I'm not important enough… _

"Well I'll tell you why _I'm _still here…" She licked her dry lips. "I'm afraid…"

Her words hung in the air. Meaningless to him. Everything to her.

Sucking in more stale air in a desperate way to somehow ground herself the baker continued, "Not just of what lies beyond the light, no…" She rolled her eyes again up to the ceiling, not exactly sure why. Entirely out of context she giggled. A sad giggle that seemed to all too precisely total up the situation the two seemed to find themselves in.

She went on, that smile still playing with her lips, "No, that's a completely different subject. No…I'm afraid that…" The baker brought her gaze back down to the barber. Something he noticed whether he liked it or not.

"That we will just…lose…everything we've built here."

Whatever that was. Whatever small amount of a relationship (if you could even call it that) had grown. Whatever was running through Mr. Todd's head before Toby so rudely tried to kill them. Whatever he tries to deny, he had looked at her with at least a trace of love behind his charcoal eyes.

The barber let his eyes drift up from the floor. But not to meet the baker, they simply went to scan the other side of the room. Mrs. Lovett resisted the urge again to treat Sweeney like a child and scold him to look her in the eyes when she was talking to him.

Nellie dropped her voice, suddenly embarrassed about what she was bringing up. That one moment between the two almost felt like a dream now. A fantasy.

"Because well…as soon as you step into that light…you'll see your wife...you'll see Lucy. And not the beggar woman that she was…the Lucy you haven't see in over fifteen years…and…and you'll go off with her and forget all about me…" The last part of her speech seemed to be more to herself then to the barber. Still…was it not true?

Now that she had gotten it out, she left the two in silence. She didn't care that he wasn't listening anymore. Why should she care when he doesn't? Too bad it never seems to work that way. Too bad no matter how much his glossy eyes look past her or his thoughts gather somewhere so far away that it doesn't even exist…she can't let go…

_All ailments are left behind in the light…not all of them. _

Nellie turned and faced forward on the couch, her eyes settling in the cold fireplace. She had decided whatever she was saying form now on, she wasn't saying to him.

Whatever she was saying from now on was to fill in the silence, it was to cope. Cause dying must be so bloody traumatic that afterwards it's all you can do…is cope. Or try.

Taking in another hollow, dead breath, the baker went on. "Which brings me to the question…Mr. T. Why…don't you want to go into the light? If Lucy's there? Don't you want to see her?"

_Don't you…want to hold her…to kiss her…to love her like you never would me…_

That's all Nellie wanted to get out, that's all she wanted to say. Now that it was voiced, again, the baker wasn't sure what to do.

She began to think again about how the barber seemed to be holding her to the earth and blocking her view of the light. Doesn't she have any say in what keeps her from happiness? Why can't she just reach down and rip the chains off her ankles? Doesn't she have a say in any of this?

Of course she does, and she knew that…

And that choice is what kept her chained down.

Bloody…

"I don't deserve it."

The sharp voice sliced cleanly through Mrs. Lovett's thoughts.

A response? A demon's response?

Nellie's eyes automatically shot to the barber, almost (almost!) catching his eye. The baker's maternal side kicked in at the sound of an expression crying out. All she really ever wanted was to always make everything better, to be mother nature. Was that too much to ask?

"Hm?" was all she responded with, noticing the delicacy of the situation.

"I don't deserve peace. I don't deserve happiness." The demon closed his dark eyes as they fell towards the ground, as if finally giving into something. "I don't deserve Lucy…"

Nellie hated to see the tormented soul in front of her. She could have rejoiced. _Yes! He doesn't want Lucy! He doesn't want to be with her! _

But that just wasn't the case. It seemed to be an even worse scenario then wanting her completely. Thinking he wasn't worthy of her at all. Nellie had to comfort him, whether she agreed with him or not.

"Now Mr. T, you can't honestly believe that!" She turned toward him and resisted the want to move closer.

The sun was once again setting on the two. Nellie was beginning to hate the night. Hate the way it darkened the parlor. It was too dark.

Too much like the past.

The demon regained his closed posture. The baker could tell he regretted even saying anything but that wasn't going to stop her from trying to make him think differently.

"They…they say that forgiveness lies behind the light."

Hm? Who said that? Annabella? One of the silently answered questions? Just Nellie's own thoughts trying to comfort her?

"Some say that judgment is all that lies beyond the light."

Who was?

That…voice…

For a couple of naïve moments…the baker was utterly confused.

That…that wasn't Mr. T talking, in fact now he was also looking up puzzled.

That…voice…

Deep, rough, and as chilling as ice.

But that's impossible!

Oh…wait…

The baker slowly let her eyes drift up as she turned around in her seat. The room suddenly seemed so cold. Like hatred. Like resentment. Like…

"Oh you…" The baker growled bitterly as her eyes fell upon it.

It…it doesn't deserve a name.

Unfortunately it had one - Judge Turpin.

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**OH WHAT A TWIST! *evil music plays***

**Pop me a review! I'll update faster if you do!**


	15. XV

**Thanks Redejeka, Rainbow Username, Helen Young, Larissa Baptista, and RedEyedOreos123 for reviewing the last chappy in one way or another!**

**Chapter 15 **

* * *

There he stood, by the closed door in the parlor, like he had been watching the whole time. The thought ran chills up and down Nellie's spine as she just stared resentfully at the blood covered ghost. His appearance was enough to make anyone feel ill, dead or alive. He was covered in bright red blood…it sparkled as if he was showing it off and covered him from head to toe. But it didn't originate from a clean, thin line across the throat like Sweeney's. It flowed from deep, gushing punctured wounds all over his neck. Too many to count even. Nellie was sure if you looked close enough you could see the insides of him: bones and veins. He rolled his neck as he took a step closer, it making a bone-chilling cracking noise. Of course- plummeting down the shoot must've broken his neck. The hard crack to the pavement also must have made a good crack in his skull. Mrs. Lovett remembered how even after all this damage, he had still gotten up and crawled toward her in the dark bake house. Surly only the devil himself could do that. But she wasn't as scared of him now as she was then…somehow. Right now they were equals. Neither flesh. Neither breathing. Both just dust floating in the room.

The barber had noticed the Judge also. Anger building up behind his stone eyes, Mr. Todd swiftly stood up. He marched toward the corner where his enemy remained, holding his hand up as if it still held a sharp edged razor like it used to so threateningly do.

As he reached the corner, he closed in on the Judge, who didn't even seem to notice the other ghost. Placing one hand on the wall and the other acting as though one of his friends was actually in his grasp, Sweeney snarled through clenched teeth, "If I could slit your throat again I would!"

All the judge did was close his eyes and turn his face away from the threat. As though all the demon was is an annoying bug.

"Mmm…Mr. Todd," he muttered with little care in his voice. Suddenly, the figure under Sweeney's killing gaze disappeared. Before the barber could even wonder what had just happened, the deep voice was talking from another part of the room, "Or should I say Benjamin Barker?"

The barber spun around, hating that now, the Judge seemed to have the upper hand here.

Ignoring his tantalizing remark, Sweeney spoke, his voice drowning in bitterness, "Here I've been sitting in pity for myself when it's _you _I should be pitying! You, Judge Turpin, deserve the light even less then I do!"

Mrs. Lovett stood up from where she was still sitting, her eyes hard and glaring at the Judge.

"Mr. T, let it go!" she shouted to the barber who didn't even glance in her direction. She was just so sick of this! She thought this all ended when Benjamin was sent away! She thought just maybe it could be all over when the Judge's life was ended. If not then at least when _Sweeney's _life was ended. But no. It was never ending. It was the worst, most awful, horrible, slaughtering, cycle that could ever happen. And here it all was not just part of who Nellie was, but _engulfing _who she was. And she couldn't stand it anymore!

But Mr. T didn't care. He didn't care that it had already swallowed him up. The only acknowledge the baker got from her protest was the Judge locking eyes with her and letting a sly smile slide on his lips as he looked her over. Nellie suddenly felt so exposed. So naked. His eyes were like bullets to her skin.

Still, she resisted the feeling of it and spoke bitterly toward the Judge but to Sweeney, "Let it go, he's not worth it…"

The Judge's eyes slid over the baker once more before switching back over to Mr. Todd.

"Me? I don't deserve the light…you say?" The ghost let his eyes sweep around the room, over the green wallpaper, past the pictures and postcards of the seaside. "I am not the one who…murdered…countless men," he spat as he paced around the room. He continued, capturing the barber's falling gaze. "my wife…" and after Sweeney's heavy eyes had completely fallen to the ground, switching again to throw a look at Nellie, "and the only other woman who could ever love me."

Mrs. Lovett took a deep breath as she felt anger build in her chest and ring in her ears. She took a few steps toward Sweeny, bending down to try and catch his dropped gaze. "Mr. T…listen to me…"

But the other ghost interrupted her, "And you know what the ironic thing is?" he asked with a low, heart shaking laugh. "I might have sent Benjamin Barker away, but it was _you _Mr. Todd…who killed him…And you know what else? Lucy loved Benjamin. She would have _never _loved the murderer Sweeney Todd…hm?"

That comment might not have got to him, but any mention of Lucy makes him as vulnerable as if someone had stripped him of everything…almost like now.

It was like the Judge was literary drinking in the barber's energy. Perhaps he really was…didn't Annabella mentions something about that?

Nellie watched as the barber's head dropped lower and lower. She didn't understand, how he could let the judge get such power of him?

"Mr. T don't listen to him!"

"And you…" The Judge went on turning toward Mrs. Lovett. "You are staying here with this man…who you claim you still love…"

_ How…how did he? Perhaps he has been watching this whole time…_

The snake continued, "Despite the fact that you wouldn't even be here - you wouldn't even be seeing me - if it wasn't for him."

Mrs. Lovett struggled to contain her anger as her teeth gritted and her face tensed even further. How _dare_ he say something like that! As if everything here was Sweeney's fault, as if he was a saint! Ha!

"I'd rather be _dead _here with him then _anywhere_ with _you _roaming the streets!" She spat at the ghost, wondering if she slapped him if it would sting like it would have in life.

The Judge chuckled, like all of this was some sort of joke. It only made Nellie's blood boil higher. Exactly what he wanted too.

"I'm sure, Mrs. Lovett. That's what you are saying in front of him," The Judge threw a glance at the barber, who was staring daggers straight into the Judge's soul, "But what are you really thinking?" he finished with a smirk and a raise of his eyebrow.

Though the baker pressed her lips together in determination to not give into the anger that the Judge so deeply wanted to see in her, her mind wasn't so immune to reacting to the other ghost's behavior.

_What am I thinking? What am I thinking? I'm thinking that you are making unconditional love a crime! Love that you have obviously never felt…or WILL EVER FEEL! Love that seems foolish when you think about it because well it is…but…I'm thinking… that it's worth it…yes? I'm thinking…that you're…right?_

Nellie suddenly resisted the urge to grab her own head and shake it. The Judge? Right? He wasn't correct! He was manipulative!

Mrs. Lovett suddenly spun around and gritted her teeth to the air behind her. She shouted to the empty side of the room, as if praying someone would hear her, "Someone tell me what I need to bloody do to see this light because I want to go somewhere he CAN'T GO!"

"Oh…the light…Not that I ever really believed in that sort of thing. The light's beauty is simply a delusional ghost seeing the reflection of the moon off the lake or…perhaps a teary eyed gaze into a distant candle."

Nellie felt herself becoming lightheaded as her hands started to shake. She quickly scolded herself for letting the Judge cause this madness that affected her so. Still, she couldn't stop the rattling anger. That…serpent! How he seemed so controlling and able to just make you think whatever he thinks. He had ruined lives. Hell! Now he was ruining afterlives! All Nellie ever wanted was to be in peace! All the Judge wanted to do was argue…like a child.

"But I saw it! Toby! He went into it!" The woman shouted, determined to win this argument. Determined to not let the Judge extinguish the only hope she had for happiness.

But the reaction he responded with wasn't exactly what she was expecting.

"Who's Toby?" was all he asked.

Nellie narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Nonetheless, with her mouth still hanging open in disbelief, she answered, "He's my…" but she stopped. She couldn't say _son_…could she? "He's a boy I looked after."

"Mm" she hated how he pretended like he cared. "And who else saw this 'light', you say?"

"Me!" she shouted, taking a few steps closer to his face. "Myself!"

But it still didn't faze him. In fact, once again, he just laughed. His deep laugh shook through the baker's chest and made her teeth clench tighter. She could feel her whole body tensing now, like the room was growing denser and denser and was crushing her between itself.

"Exactly…" the Judge smiled, "A delusional ghost…completely mad."

Nellie sucked in air, "You! Judge Turpin! Get out of my house! This instant!" Mrs. Lovett was reminded of what Sweeney said. Let him take over the place you live, and suddenly he had all the power and control over you.

"OUT!" she commanded again when the ghost didn't budge.

Finally, the anger flared too high for her to handle. Talking a step forward, she threw her hand to slap the man. But right when the baker figured her hot hand was to meet cold bloody skin, the ghost disappeared. Once again, he reappeared on the other side of the parlor, with that awful smirk on his lips.

"Foolish woman, you can't make a ghost do anything."

All Nellie wanted to do was pick up something and chuck in across the room, just to hear the sweet sound of it shattering. All she wanted to do was scream so the whole world could hear, instead of the hollow whistle of wind that _would _reach their ears. All she wanted to do now was harm someone deserving it.

Instead, all she had was empty, limited words. And for once, she found herself at a complete loss for them.

The bitter condition of being dead.

Desperation was settling into Mrs. Lovett's soul now and tears rose in her eyes. She was so sick of being tortured like this!

Never respected - Never loved. She ached for it. Her head, her throat, her chest, her shaking hands. She took another look at the judge and just shook her head. She didn't know what else to do.

Suddenly remembering, she spun around. "Mr. T!" she spoke, "What's running through your mind!?" Hiding in the dark corner during a brawl…that wasn't like him at all. He didn't even look up when the baker spoke.

"Mr. T?" she shouted again, becoming angry at him now, "GET THIS MAN OUT!"

The barber looked at the judge. He didn't want him to just get out. He wanted to make him leave forever. And he didn't want any help from this naïve baker this time. He wanted to do it all on his own.

Sweeney was self-maintenance. Truly, he believed he didn't need help from anyone for anything.

But he had been thinking about it as he hid in the shadows…and he couldn't see how he was going to control this situation. It bothered him immensely to think that he didn't have any power unless he was behind a barber knife. He wasn't that weak, was he?

It seemed to be a dead end he was beginning to think - doomed to be tortured by the devil of a judge till the end of time.

Sweeney had never felt more like Benjamin.

He was reminded of the nights on an unnamed island, cooking in the scorching cell of a smelly and dirty prison. Benjamin had thought it was a dead end. He saw no way out, no way to get revenge, no way to free himself and his family. The years went on…and it wasn't until Sweeney was born out of the dust, shadows, and blood stained cement walls that there was a light at the end of that tunnel. A way out…somewhere somewhat free.

Would he somehow have to change again?

Perhaps Sweeney Todd had finally...just…given up.

But the judge was sick of picking on the simple baker for now. He turned around, also addressing the silent barber.

"Mr. Sweeney Todd, I honestly am not sure why you're so distraught about all of this. After all, I've never done anything against you."

It woke him up. The cruel voice woke him up from his pity and his confusion and it shook him until he was shaking with anger himself.

"You might not have ever done anything to me but you _broke _Benjamin. You killed him slowly, year by year, in a scorching cell, until there was nothing left. You took his wife and you stole her innocence and raped her. And after she felt so lost and alone that she tried to _kill _herself you took her daughter and raised her as your _slut!"_

Even Nellie was drawn back at everything Sweeney had just spit in the judge's face. Still, the judge didn't appear to feel any guilt. It burned deep into the other two's chests. So as they sat in the afterlife, they were crushed with guilt, but the judge, despite that he was at fault for the majority of their guilt, just was so content? How was this fair?

"And you actually believe all of this, Mr. Todd?"

"I do!" he muttered, grinding his teeth together in anger.

"And who told you all of this?" He turned toward the baker again, ready to bring her into the problem, "Her? Why would you ever trust her after how she lied to you?"

The barber turned his head until he locked eyes with the baker. He could still hear her words. _No no not lied at all. No I never lied…_ they bounced around in his memory like they had bounced around the bake house back when their voices still meant something. Mrs. Lovett held his gaze and wouldn't let him drop it. Yet her expression didn't seem to say anything. Not _believe me _or even _there's a reason you shouldn't trust me._

Finally the barber turned back to the judge and spat out, with surprising confidence behind his voice, "I _do _trust her!"

To anyone else, the person who you've been living with and caring for the past year saying they trust you shouldn't really be a big shock.

But…this was different. In an instant before the judge and Sweeney began to go back and forth again, Mrs. Lovett had a moment of…hope.

He did trust her.

He did trust her!

Those words were enough to make Nellie fall in love all over again. Not that she had ever fallen out of love just…fallen out of hope. Hope that the two of them could make it through everything.

But he did trust her.

She wasn't sure why, but he did!

Is it because he knew why now? Why she simply _had_ to lie to him? Perhaps he understood? Maybe he regrets...killing her?

It also could be that he was just putting on a show for the judge …but the baker dismissed the thought as a smile curled on her lips and her dead heart struck butterflies through her veins. She looked around with that foolish smile like an embarrassed little schoolgirl.

He trusts me…we can get through anything now.

Even the bloody Judge.

* * *

**So I did this…thing…I wanted to link all my different sites – fanfiction, Facebook, Tumblr, Youtube, to a center place…so I made a BLOG YAY!**

**Right now, it just has fanfiction stuff on it. What YES STUFF FOR YOU!**

**Go to obsessedfannelliehope . blogspot . com (with no spaces) and scroll down till you see "For those of you reading Mr Todd Do you Believe in Ghosts" I'm going to be posting behind the scenes stuff, deleted chapters, and other fun related things. Also, ask me a question and I'll answer. Favorite Tim Burton movie, actress…type of pizza, you know!**

**THANKS READERS!**

**REVIEW too...i mean, if you wanna**


	16. XVI

**Massive Massive Thanks to Redejeka (haha, no, Turpin's ghost is actually there!), a wonderful guest, Rainbow Username, Helen Young, and WhiteQueenEponine.**

**CHAPTER 16!**

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With a quick glance at the baker, and another soul shaking laugh, the Judge continued with his antagonizing words. "Well, actually believe it or not, Mr. Todd, I didn't simply come here to chat - I do have a purpose."

He lowered his eyes to watch his feet as he slowly walked around the room, his hands behind his back. He threw a sideways glance at the still silent Sweeney.

"Mr. Todd?" he asked and then paused, obviously not expecting a response from the barber, but letting the silence settle around them anyway. Continuing, with his eyes still on his feet, "Do you have any idea how many men you killed?"

The question was stated blunt and nonchalant, like he was asking about the weather. The barber's eyes shot up and glistened a mix between ruby and gold. The strange and sudden color made Mrs. Lovett's heart clench.

But perhaps, her heart was clenching half for another reason too.

_ Do you have any idea how many men you killed?_

_ Do you? Do you? Do you?_

By the look on Mr. Todd's face, the baker could tell that he didn't have the slightest idea. All Sweeney remembers of the past year when it came to what he was doing up in that barber shop when no one was looking was singing songs to his daughter.

_I'd want you beautiful and pale, the way I've dreamed you were, Johanna…_

So now it was Nellie who was thinking. The gears shifted…her eyes dropped to the dark ground, her brows pulled closer and closer together…

_Do you?_

The Judge's focus was completely on the barber at this point, the confused barber who didn't have a clue in the world how to answer this question. Sweeney wondered what the Judge had in mind for asking such a question. Even if he did know the answer, perhaps it was better not to even say it, for he knew that the Judge would obviously only use it against him.

Nellie obviously wasn't aware of the same thing.

For as the Judge went to mutter, "Of _course _you don' remember you merciless…"

The baker's eyes shifted all over the floor, jumping for place to place. She was thinking hard, remembering. Her mouth hung open as she ran her dry tongue along her teeth…she began to mutter, a whisper, then louder and louder. "Hundred…thirty…One hundred thirty…two? Three? Four…" she looked up at the men now, who were staring at her ramblings, Mr. Todd with his eyes only slightly narrowed and Judge Turpin with that blank look on his face. Still, he was looking the baker over, as if he thought if he looked hard enough he could see what she was really thinking.

Mrs. Lovett looked up, her eyes still shifting. Mr. Todd. Judge Turpin. Mr. Todd. Judge Turpin. "One hundred and thirty four."

Her face was straight and deathly serious. Her eyes were wide…as if the simple thinking of those bodies now sent her into this horrified state.

The room remained silent and the baker felt the eyes burning at her. Her stomach leaped under the pressure. Unable to stand the harsh and astonished gazes of the two, her eyes leapt off of theirs.

With each blink, her gaze dropped lower, as she muttered, still in that strange state. "I had…" to Sweeney's torso. "I had to know…" to the judges knee's "for…the pies," to the ground.

Nellie hung her head now, as if in shame. She closed her eyes and struggled to knock herself out of the condition she had floated into. The condition that she constantly had to put herself in whenever it came to walking into a room of bloody dead bodies, counting them for a pie estimate, dragging them wherever they needed to go, and proceeding to make them into meat pies that look presentable. One of the many states of her mind that had been created for the sole purpose of pleasing the barber…

"That many, eh?" and there he went. The Judge, using this information for his benefit, his side of the fight, his advantage.

If only Nellie knew better.

"Quite a lot of lives you must have changed, eh? Lots of family's you must have ruined. Lots of love that never could be accomplished. Lots of people whose lives ended too soon, much like yours, eh?"

The baker's eyes were almost crazed now, bouncing around on the floor again, tears dropping out of them. She muttered like crazy, resisting the urge to shove her hands over her eyes and block out the world. Block out the Judge's words, "Only men! Only men from out of town! Without…without families! Loners! Useless! Strangers! People what won't be missed at all!"

"Well what you are not aware of, Mrs. Lovett, is that when the demon barber was having an especially hm…difficult day…" the Judge stopped to frown down at Sweeney. _Such a weak soul_, his eyes said, _such a pathetic man_. "…he wouldn't bother speaking to his customers before he ended their lives."

Nellie didn't care as much about how the Judge knew this as she did care about the fact that Sweeney had potentially killed many more wide-rage of men then was ever agreed on. Then Mrs. Lovett ever wanted.

She lifted her eyes, that were slowly but surely gaining back an inch of her sanity, to the barber. She locked eyes with him, and shook her head. She was begging for him to say it wasn't true - and he knew it. Her accusing eyes and narrowed brows didn't confuse him even if he had never seen this particular look of disapproval from the loving baker before. She wanted him to say that the Judge was lying, that he was simply attempting to make her angry, that it wasn't true…please don't be true.

But Sweeney knew that even if he had the energy to tell Mrs. Lovett it wasn't the right information, he couldn't. It was true. When the memories of his daughter and wife burned especially harshly, when it was hot and it reminded of the days of the dying Benjamin Barker, when the barber sometimes floated so much into his day dreams that he thought he saw the Judge sitting in his genius barber chair instead of an innocent man - who cares who'll notice or who will be missed! Life is horrible, he'll put the poor man out of his misery without question! Don't try to protest now, it'll be almost painless…

It was true.

And now Nellie knew it. She closed her burning eyes and shook her head. All her body longed to do was take in a deep breath of clean air to ground her, but no matter how much she tried, her breaths never satisfied her, they never made her feel grounded, they only made her feel dead.

All those men…who never got to live. All those lives ended because the barber was bloodthirsty and she let him stay that way!

_Only strangers! People what won't be missed!_

But he hadn't listened…he hadn't gone with the plan. He didn't listen to her…of course, why would he ever anyway?

_Who's gonna catch on?_

Mrs. Lovett had to stop her thoughts. She redirected them…he had risked everything by killing those locals, those men with family. He had risked his whole revenge plot for a couple extra drops of blood. He could have gotten them found out! Arrested! Hanged! Goodness, everything could have so easily been ruined!

But…it wasn't.

Nobody caught on. How's that even work?

Nellie halted her thoughts again.

But it had to be done, yes? And it didn't matter because they went a year without anyone finding out…and the Judge was killed…that's all that mattered, yes?

But the families!

Nellie found herself so distant in her thoughts from the action in the room. She simply wasn't sure which side she was on. As if her heart and her head lied in two different spots, and they were slowly pulling her apart…

The Judge left her to torture herself. It was all too perfect for him, the baker was so lost in her thoughts, that she wouldn't be much of a problem against what he had planned for the barber.

"Mr. Todd…" he muttered and Sweeney's whole body clenched. He hated the sound of that man's voice. So distinct and evil, the kind of voice you hear at the edge of your nightmares. The voice Sweeney had imagined begging for mercy for years. So how did it come around again that the vile Judge had the upper hand? How had his revenge plot failed him?

The eyes of the vermin slipped off of Sweeney and he began to pace the room, his eyes on his feet, like a shy school boy. But his voice held all the confidence he needed.

He simply said, "You are going to have visions now. These are things I have been studying since I've been dead for the exact reason that I am going to use them for now. They won't be from me, but from the men that you've killed."

Suddenly, the shadows in the room began to take shape. Sweeney watched them materialize from the dust that had settled all around the room. They seemed to grow with the darkness, sucking it in from around them to help them form. Nellie had noticed the strange shapes coming from the parlor walls too. Her heart leaped and she blinked and tried to tell herself that it was all an illusion…

Judge Turpin went on, "It'll feel as though you're watching something but you're not completely there. It will seem like a dream. You'll wish it is a dream, because, when you open your eyes, it will be all too real."

The shadows pulled forward unnaturally fast and formed the faces of several men. Some were skinny faced and clean cut, others smelled of the London streets and were chubby though malnourished. The ghosts left tiny trails of dust behind them, never truly seeming to be in any one spot. They were all different men, with different background, different names, and different thoughts. But they all had a few things in common - one, they all had a thin line of red across there throats. So ruby and deep, so clean, like a cleanly shaved face. And two, they all had pure, utter hatred radiating off of them. It sunk their eyes in deep and black and watery red. It hallowed their cheeks and made them permanently scowl. You could feel the hatred fill the room. It weighed on you as though the ceilings were all caving in, as though you were underwater and simply wanted a breath of air. It made you want to clench your fists and grind your teeth.

Hatred.

Toward the man who put them there.

The demon barber of Fleet Street.

"Go ahead, men. He did this to you…" the Judge muttered.

Sweeney finally fell to the ground under the pressure, and as the dark ghosts closed in around him, suffocating him and stealing every last bit of energy, he was thrown into their visions.

The dream-like state made it hard for him to breath. It pounded into his head like a sledge hammer was being taken to his skull and he winced and groaned. He struggled to stand, but it was too much. Collapsing to the floor, Sweeney was racked with the visions the angry men were giving.

_Sweeney saw it. The first man. Skinny and young. Lucky and oh-so happy. He was holding a wonderfully beautiful young woman in his arms. Her brown hair shined in the sun, her brown eyes sparkled, and her attractive pink and chubby cheeks lifted up in a smile, her delicate lips following the motion. Sweeney couldn't make much of the man with such a beautiful woman in front of him. The man cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead every so lightly. _

_ "Five days" says the young man's mouth. The noises weren't coming through properly, everything was muted or quiet. _

_ She smiled up at him and grasped his hand. Even as he began to walk away, she continued to grasp it, only when he was on the boat and out of reach did she let go. _

_ She watched him sail away. _

_ A flicker, as if the last light before the wind blows out a candle. _

_ That same woman, sitting at the dock, waiting for her love to come back. She sits, she stands, she looks, she almost sleeps. The sun sets. She sits in the cold…and she wonders more and more with every tear, "Where is he?"_

_ A second vision now, this one all too loud. Laughter. Sweeney hated laughter…he hated it. These high pitch giggles were from a little girl, only about ten. She had wonderful straight brown hair and her smile shined so brightly in the dim candle light. She laughed and laughed. Again, the barber had trouble making out the older man's figure in the vision. "Wonderful writings, Papa!" The young girl squealed, handing the paper back to her father who sat across from her in the candle light._

_ Sweeney found himself briefly wondering what him and his Johanna would have done together had he been around when she was the age of this girl. _

_ "Its late darling," the man's voice was blurred slightly, as though Sweeney was now in a drunken stage, "I'll be delighted to take a turn and read your writings tomorrow, eh?"_

_ The young girl nodded before hugging her father goodnight and bouncing away to bed. _

_ The candle lights flicker again…_

_ The same young girl, perhaps…a year later? Her eyes darkened and hard…she sits among two other women who all gaze at a picture of her father. One must be his wife, the other his eldest daughter. They all look tiered and bitter. "You promised to come back!" the once innocent little girl shouted as she took the picture and smashed it to the ground. Tears poured over her cheeks as she collapsed on top of the shards of glass._

_The third, so brief. Another younger man sits with a woman in front of a fire with his hand on her rounded stomach. They kiss the way Benjamin used to kiss Lucy. _

_ The flicker of dim orange and yellow light._

_The woman again, kneeling, knees on a grave. She holds a picture of a baby in her hands as she mutters to the pitter patter of rain around her, "I knew I couldn't do it without you…"_

_ The next is simple as well, a man with a daughter, so blond and small. He mutters something in a different language, the little pale girl nods and sits. The man walks down the street and up a familiar flight of stairs. _

_ The small girl in her bright white dress sits in her spot as the sun goes down. And she waits…A man, tall and dark, advances on the little girl. She screams and shouts for help in her tongue, but no one hears. And if they did, they didn't understand. _

_ That girl was dead now. Sweeney recognized her as the little ghost who had taken Toby away. _

Through the visions that rack Sweeney's mind, through the dark shadows advancing around him, the demon hears the Judge's voice. "There are many more, Mr. Todd, oh…oh-so many more! But I found that these men had something in common with you…something you value over anything."

The dreams ceased. The visions and loud overly obnoxious happiness stopped. Sweeney blinked wildly to try and gain back his sight. But it kept blurring the lines of the men around him, making them turn and distort. Out of focus, in focus, out, in, out, in.

The barber felt sick to his stomach. He felt tired and worn, and his head pounded and his limbs all ached. He felt like Benjamin yet again, trapped in his cell, longing to be someone - anyone else. He felt weak and weary. He felt low and worthless.

Mrs. Lovett felt the dizziness also. She wasn't the one getting the visions, but the energy the other ghosts were taking in seemed to be draining her too. She managed to, limp almost, over to where the baker lie. She wanted so badly to get onto her knees and hold him. Place his weak head in her lap and stroke his hair to comfort him, but she couldn't see through the wall of shadows that surrounded him.

So instead, Nellie turned to the Judge and shot out, "Stop it! Stop it!" tears threatened yet again to halt her words. She didn't want that, she wanted to save her suffering love, she wanted to bring him back. "Can't you see how you're hurting him!" The baker didn't sound as powerful as she would have hoped, she sounded weak and desperate.

The Judge cackled, "Feeling sorry is his weakness. Remorse is his downfall. I have no remorse, therefore I am stronger then you. I never feel guilt. Never forget, Never forgive, correct, Mr. Todd?"

Nellie's knees buckled and she was sent to the ground now too. In the silent huff of her dress hitting the hardwood floor, she fell, gasping for breath. Smoke choked her lungs.

She was losing. She was dying all over again.

He was losing faster. His eyes were closed now, too out of dead breath and energy to keep them fluttering open and closed even. He was dying all over again.

And the barber and baker sunk into the blackness together…the shadows taking all the energy that the two held, and giving them to the Judge. The Judge who stood above the two, watching them shake and slowly fall into a never ending sleep. His booming laugh rang louder and louder, until it was all the barber and the baker together could hear.

Briefly, Sweeney found himself wondering what was next. He never wondered that before. Even before the boy slit his throat, he simply didn't care about where his soul was to go.

But he found himself wondering what comes after. If your soul is drained…do you just simply cease to ever exist?

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	17. XVII

**The usual thanks to the usual wonderful people! Redejeka, Rainbow Username, and Kagetora no Tsume! **

**Enjoy everyone!**

* * *

Nellie's vision blurred.

She blinked wildly as her eyes struggled to dart around the room. What does it mean when you don't even have the energy to move your eyes? Or focus them? It hurt her head to move them, to blink and create the sideways image she got from where she was lying down. But it didn't stop her. There was something new in the dark parlor suddenly, and she had to see what it was.

She gasped…it ached her entire body just for that simple intake of air, but she couldn't help it. Suddenly, her vision focused and she felt something mysterious. It was like new energy was floating through the room. The baker took in a deep breath like she had just been tossed by a wave and thought her head would never be above water again. But here she was, gasping for the air, grasping for the energy.

"Mr. T!" she shouted as her body was able to shoot into the sitting up position. The dark ghosts that had been around the barber and the baker had vanished…and nothing remained of them but an eerie feel to the air. The Judge still stood in the corner of the room, much to her dismay.

But that wasn't why she had gasped…why she had called the barber's name.

There was a new ghost in the room.

The barber groaned in response. He had been way more drained by those other ghosts then she had. She recovered sooner than her companion…it would take a lot more to get the barber to do anything past opening his eyes.

Mrs. Lovett looked down at her Sweeney for a brief moment. It hurt her so much to see him shriveled up on the hard wood floor like a dead animal. Again, she wanted to hold him, she wanted to call a doctor to save him, she wanted to pick him up and drag him out of the painfully dead room. But instead, she simply blinked back the tears and whispered, returning her eyes to the fourth ghost, "Mr. Todd…open your eyes…It's Lucy…"

At the sound of his wife's name, the barber wasn't hesitant anymore to open his eyes. It was all he could muster, but it managed to be enough to see the next scene play before his eyes.

There the beautiful yellow haired woman stood. Nellie would have thought that if she would end up here, she would be illuminating in light like that little girl, Annabella, was. And didn't she also mention that Lucy was waiting for Sweeney behind the light? But yet, here she stood! In a wonderful pink evening gown, sprinkled with sequins that seemed to fail to glitter.

"Ah, Judge Turpin…so this where you've been lurking?" she mumbled.

Nellie watched from where she sat next to the lying barber. She placed her hand on his shoulder as if she was watching a scene where something might suddenly jump out at her, and she needed the comfort. It was strange…it was suspenseful. Nellie looked the blonde woman up and down, spending time to study her face like she never particularly liked to do before. _She's so much prettier then I am_ she couldn't help but think even now…but no…she was studying her for a different reason as well.

Lucy looked…odd…she looked…angry. Her eyes were dark and her cheeks were hollowed. She was smiling…but it wasn't a joyful smile it was…a smirk. Evil and deceiving. And she didn't even bat an eye in the direction of the two on the floor. Not at her old landlady, not Sweeney, who she may or may not know to be her husband. Mrs. Lovett wasn't even sure if Lucy saw them.

So she simply did the same thing as Sweeney, the only thing he could do at the moment…watch.

"Hm…Lucy Barker…" Sweeney twitched inside. The Judge had uttered her name before he could. It wasn't fair.

"Yes!" she said with a flourish of her arms "Here I am! It is I!"

The Judge frowned, suddenly feeling something wrong as well. He struggled to not let it shine through his eyes.

"Why?"

"Well I'm dead! Where else have I to go? I'm dead…" her voice was…cheerful. Still with that smirk…those suspicious looking eyes.

"What's your purpose? You interrupted something!" the Judge shot out rather loudly…rather _inhumanly _loud. Like he had just shot out all the energy he collected from the barber in that one outburst. His face was red and his eyes narrowed. He looked like he could kill…and that's saying something considering the fact that he did torture to the point of death with a smile on his face.

"I'm dead! You killed me! I have business to finish also!" she didn't move…didn't change her facial expression.

The baker gulped hard…something was wrong.

"I had no part in your death!"

"Ah, indirectly, you see! Shall I trace it back? I was killed because I was unrecognizable. I was like so because I poisoned myself! I drank that arsenic because _you _Judge Turpin _ruined m_y life!"

Lucy was the one shouting now. If Sweeney could…he would pull his eye brows together too. His Lucy wasn't one for shouting…even now. Even the barely conscious barber could tell that something was wrong…

"I don't believe that!"

"Oh yes? You don't believe you did all the horrible things you did to me when I lived fully over sixteen years ago? How you stalked me for two years before you even sent my husband away? How you followed me home every night and peaked into my windows when you thought no one was looking, hoping to catch a glimpse of me dressing? How about when I became pregnant and you told everyone that the child was yours? And the countless days that you brought me flowers that I didn't want. The flowers only Benjamin ever got for me, nevertheless. And then you just sent him away! You took my world and transported it to Australia. Then you tricked me into thinking you were _contrite_. I can't believe I agreed to come over when every fiber of my being was screaming at me not to! You _raped _me! And I thought for a while that it was all my fault. All the watching, all the isolation you put me through, all the flowers, all the night terrors…I knew the only way out was to kill myself….to stop the pain of thinking of Benjamin in a dreadful cell every day and every night and to stop the pain those night terrors that you haunted every single bloody night caused!" She took a deep breath, though she hardly looked or sounded out of it. "And you didn't kill me, you say?"

Mrs. Lovett's mouth hung open now. Lucy wasn't as weak as she had always thought…the baker never realized everything that the Judge had done to her. No wonder…no wonder…

"I'll admit it…" he shrugged…as though it was all a casual conversation done over tea. He continued, "You know you enjoyed the lot of it." he smirked.

Lucy was scowling. Mrs. Lovett's eyes grew wider at the comment, and Sweeney felt more pain eating at him for it…but Lucy just kept staring like it wasn't her the Judge was speaking about.

Yet somehow she still looked as though she could throw a punch that would kill him in an instant…if only.

"Shall I go on?!" she shot out. Of course, she didn't wait for the vile man's answer to keep talking. "How many woman did you at least attempt similar things with? I counted sixteen…starting a seventeenth before you died, eh? You sick, vile snake. All those innocent women!

You used your high power to steal money that you didn't deserve and to arrest little child for petty crimes they do simply to survive! You sentenced all the boys to death and told all the girls, no matter what the age, that they can go free as long as they _spend the night with you. _

And are any of the teenaged girls in your home aware that they are not the only wards you keep? All six of them…oh sorry, five. One of was bright and bold enough to escape, yes?" Lucy smiled again. "I'm surprised that Sweeney Todd was the only one to come after you! Tell me Judge Turpin, is any of this not true?"

Silence.

_Silence and the end of all things…_Nellie thought… a little saying she would say in her mind during conversation when those awkward little pauses came up. Hopefully this time, the end of all things would truly come. If the baker wished hard enough…

The Judge didn't look sorry. He didn't look contrite or show any shot of remorse. He didn't show being frightened of the ghost in front of him being so accusing. He simply stood there straight-faced as ever, as though he was watching this all play out instead of actually being a part of it. Was he thinking about everything he'd done? Was he wondering? He wasn't admitting that he did everything Lucy had said…but he certainly wasn't denying it. Oh no, you could see it in his eyes, he was not denying it at all.

"Would you at least admit to, indirectly, causing the death of Lucy Barker?"

The Judge nodded slowly and then with more confidence. "I would!" he snarled. "Have fun explaining that to…"

But the yellow-haired ghost interrupted him, "Then who's to say that, indirectly, of course, you are not responsible for all One. Hundred. And. Thirty. Four. Of Sweeney Todd's victims?"

Something hit Sweeny in the chest. Whatever energy he had gotten back was shot out of him at her words. Why wouldn't she turn to him? Look in his eyes? Acknowledge him in the least bit? He just wanted to see her beautiful face next to his again…feel her hair tickle his cheek. But she only continued to go on like he and the baker weren't there. Like they were invisible. Like they were dead, and she wasn't…but it simply didn't make sense.

The Judge smirked again, as though he isn't capable of any kind of expression of joy other than that. He muttered with a grunt, "So you've been watching me all this time, have you Mrs. Barker?"

Lucy's face curled up more, her smirk turning unnaturally evil looking. Her eyes lit up…much to Sweeney's horror…quite literally…red and hot. They glowed in the dark as her skin turned dark. She grinned to reveal razor sharp teeth…it made Nellie's heart sink…it made Sweeney's stomach turn and his eyes water.

Her voice suddenly became like an ancient woman as it muttered out, sandy and raspy, "Oh Turpin, I've been watching you your…whole…life…"

Before Judge Turpin could think to run away or turn, Lucy had disintegrated into dust. The particles hung in the air for a moment before they all rushed to the ground as if someone had sucked them in. On the ground appeared a shadow…it was shaped like…nothing any of the other three had ever seen before. Unnatural and monstrous. They had only a moment to look at the ground horrified before the shadow raced across the floor. Nothing casted the shadow, there wasn't even enough light in the room to make something form a shadow! Yet here was this dark spot, racing across the parlor floor, racing for Judge Turpin.

"No!" The Judge shouted! "No!"

But the shadow was soon wrapping around his feet. The barber and baker watched as his ankles clacked into each other…the judge was no longer holding himself up, he was being suspended, carried by something.

The shadow grew up to his waist, his hands clamped to his body as though it was a rope. The dark figure quickly crawled up his torso and close to his neck. The Judge raised his chin as though he was drowning with a weight tied to his ankles and struggling to stay above water. It didn't help. The shadow wrapped around his neck, his chin. It snaked around his face, up and down his cheek bones, in and out of his ears, leaving his eyes and mouth as the last thing to be strangled by the darkness, one more "No!" echoed through Nellie and Sweeney's ears before the ghost in front of them seemed to…melt…and disappear into the ground.

Seconds after Lucy disappeared there was nothing but a disintegrating pile of shadow where the Judge once stood. It was swallowed up by what seemed to be nothing more than water going down a drain…and with one more slurping noise, the parlor was silent…and empty.

Nellie looked around, wide-eyed. She had subconsciously stood up during the action and, upon looking behind her, she realized the barber had somehow found the energy to do so too.

The baker took in a deep heaving breath and let it out, more in relief then for the fact that she actually needed it.

She let a single "Huh," like giggle out and smiled in relief. Whatever that was…whatever had just manifested, the Judge was gone! Sweeney was standing! _They had won!_

Nellie turned around and, without thinking much, wrapped the barber in a hug. She pulled him closer and closer until she realized a couple things…one, he wasn't hugging back…and two…he wasn't pushing her off.

She immediately removed her arms and looked at the barber in the eye. His eyes were still filled with terror and tears.

He was confused…bloody confused…what had just happened?

"Lucy…" she heard him mutter between barely parted lips.

"I don't know…" was all she could whisper back to him.

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**Don't worry everyone! Theres still a few more chapters! Hope you liked. Hope you'll review :)**


	18. XVIII

**Hello everyone! Yes so so sorry not dead! Just busy with college and a new obsession...anyway...**

**Thanks to those who reviewed or something so long ago! Redejeka, SlytherclawBeauty, and Deresto!**

**Enjoy everyone!**

* * *

And there they sat….again…

Sweeney pulled into the left hand corner of the sofa, elbow on arm rest, fist dug into his hollow cheek, legs apart. Nellie on the far right…sitting with her back straight and her eyes low, hands folded and mind racing.

The room was silent. If you had walked into the room. You would have seen nothing. Nothing but the dust settling and the sun light faintly growing through the curtains, marking yet another day. If you had sat on the sofa in the small room, you might have felt a chill up and down your spine, and wonder suddenly who is watching you…

Sweeney and Nellie would have no interest in you if you were in the room. Neither of them cared about people, good or bad, much anymore. Those crunching noises pervading the air were hollow and meaningless. Neither of them wanted to think about anything that was going on beyond those parlor walls.

Neither of them wanted to face the fact that so much time had passed, so much that they had lost track, and those crunching noises weren't heard in the pie shop or up the barber shop stairs. It was as though the barber and the baker had simply disappeared, and not a single soul cared.

_No more Mrs. Lovett's meat pies? Pity. I'll have to eat at the one down the street._

Everything Nellie did to make her life happy and successful didn't matter now.

Nothing seemed to matter…and Nellie _hated _that.

Mrs. Lovett could honestly say that when the judge popped in for his little 'visit' she was…relieved. So this afterlife wasn't all sitting around and mourning for ourselves, eh? Thank goodness.

But the mourning had commenced again…Sweeney lost in thought…Nellie wanting to break the thought to conversation. What was wrong with that?

From childhood to afterlife, Mrs. Lovett had craved words. She didn't want them, she needed them. And here and now, Sweeney was the only one who could give them to her…

Besides…something _needed _to be done about this sitting and idleness.

"Mr. T…" how he was sick of hearing that woman say his name like that. Something flared up in his chest for a moment, but settled back down. He knew whatever she had to say had to be said. He knew better now. After everything they had been through, the least he could do was listen.

He left the air open, therefore, leaving it for her to continue, "I honestly don' think that was Lucy…"

She wondered if she turned her head to look at him if his eyebrows were narrowing. They weren't.

The baker figured she better well go on like she usually did. "I mean, we both know that. We both _felt _that, yes? I honestly don' think you should be so…distraught about it all…it wasn't her. It couldn't of been," She paused to take another one of her empty breaths. And continued, not knowing for sure what else she could do. "Well…remember Annabella? The young bright girl? She said she was a…a light spirit. That thing, that shadow…it must have been a dark spirit. Here to take the dark away? It doesn't make much sense if you really spend time thinking about it, then again…that's all we have now…is time…it seems…"

Mrs. Lovett had to stop because her mouth was becoming dry. She hated that. She hated that she was still feeling all these all-to-human feelings and faults even though she knew all to well that she was very very dead.

Sweeney was thinking. He had listened! And now he was thinking. The baker had confirmed what he thought. Who knew actually listening would bring him a slight peace of mind? That wasn't Lucy. It wasn't his angel, she was waiting for him…in that light. The light he didn't deserve…the barber had to stop his thoughts. She wasn't waiting for him at all…no not Sweeney Todd…Sweeney didn't belong to Lucy at all. They were completely separate, two different times and magnitudes he went as far a thinking. It didn't make much sense, but it seemed to be good enough for now.

The baker's voice once again broke his thoughts, and once again, he listened.

"Mr. Sweeney Todd…" she started by using his full name, to really get his attention. "I don't want to be here anymore! I've told you already this, but now I can't stand it! I can feel we aren't meant to be here anymore. You feel it too, I know!" She finally turned to him on the other side of the sofa. And he turned back to her. To lock eyes with her to say, yeah, I'm listening.

"We're not meant to be here, truly. No one is meant to be here. Not here one earth, in this bloody parlor, on this horrid sofa day after day year after year decade after decade. I say, we're not suppose to be here…and for some strange, _incomprehensible _reason we aren't suppose to be wherever the judge went to…" she stopped herself and sighed…

"I don't know why!" she went on with a few painful blinks and the shaking of her head. "I can't understand why we're not with that man, after all the horrible things we've done…but we're not!" a single giggle. Not a joyful one, a sad, out of other options laugh.

Sweeney was still listening, Nellie knew she had to go on.

"Because we've been given a chance for the light…and I think all you need to do to see it is…forgive. You need to forgive yourself for everything you did. I…we…need to forgive ourselves for what we did…"

Again the baker closed her eyes and sighed. Tears threatened to choke her words…all of her begging to the demon barber seemed to be in vain. She simply wanted to go home…to be somewhere where she felt her heart and soul now belonged.

"Lets face it Mr. T…" she cried to the darkness before her eyes. She couldn't stop now. "We did horrible…vile…cruel and unnatural things to innocent and loving men. We ruined families and broke love and hope. We were driven by pathetic things like revenge…and love…" Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes and rolled her head around the room. She reached up her hand and violently wiped away the many tears, only to have more fill their place. Her whole body ached. Her chest, her throat, her very being seemed to have it's own hurt.

She could sense…she could feel the barber was feeling the same way. Like the congregation of a church he was nodding and shouting out an eternal "amen!" it's true…it's all horribly true.

"We were horrible people…who passed off to be completely sane and…eminently practical…a good couple. We passed off to be role models and loyal. We somehow became famous for our lies we lived. For the secret we hid…" she couldn't hardly talk anymore the pain her throat was so intense, she thought it would be better just to slit her throat…death just wasn't enough to stop the pain.

"We don't deserve that light!" she knew it, her heart knew it, her tears knew it, her soul knew it. Sweeney had pointed it out, and Nellie had tried to deny it, but she couldn't. Not any longer.

The barber still didn't move his gaze from the baker, or his mind from the matter.

"We don't deserve the light at all. We don't deserve the forgiveness and the love that lies behind it…we're horrible people. We deserve to die. We deserve to be sucked into the ground like the judge. Like that vile awful judge. But we weren't! We were spared. Perhaps…just perhaps…the light sees something in us then…some bit of…" another bitter giggle "something…I simply don't know what. But it wants us to feel happiness. I know that…" she stopped and left the dead air be. She was done with her thoughts that had been buzzing in her head. The tears flowed and flowed. The poor baker couldn't recall every feeling this sad. Not when her parents died. Not when Benjamin was sent away. Not in any of the pain she felt in those open empty fifteen years. Dying didn't hurt this much. Watching the one you loved suffer didn't hurt this much. She could only classify it as one thing - loneliness. Pure and utter loneliness.

But, still, she was healing. Slowly. She uttered. "I think I can do this. I can forgive myself…"

"You're starting to sound like a church service, pet," Sweeney muttered bitterly.

"We're dead, are we not! ?" The baker shot out. What did he expect?

Nellie sighed though…before the barber had so rudely interrupted her, she had gotten it all out. She had managed to sputter out through the tears that she forgave herself. For her blind love. For her eminently practical mind and her cruel idea. For her months of blood and piles of bodies she struggled to forget about in her dreams every night. And now…the tears stopped. The fog cleared…it was as simply as that. Not truly that simply, the baker thought, but it really was.

If she looked hard enough, she saw the streak of light. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the laughter and happiness beyond, and she knew if she completely forgot about the barber, she could see the full light and all it's glory…but she couldn't very well do that.

She couldn't…she wouldn't…never…forget about the barber. So she went on talking. Because something had to be done so Sweeney saw this bit of forgiveness and hope to.

He needed it, whether he wanted it or not.

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**Only one more chapter everyone! **

**Review and I'll update much sooner this time!**


	19. XIX

**So here it is...the long awaited last chapter! :)**

**Thanks to Redejeka, IWillNotHaveFun, and HalloweenSpell!**

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So…she started on him. It took her long enough to get herself to think she deserved the forgiveness of the light. How much more would it take the demon barber?

Nellie used her words to get to him. To crack his hard outer shell and be able to touch his hard and black heart. She used her posture by moving closer, by closing his ice-cold and bloody hands between her own, fiery hot. By whispering in his ear and hoping her breath would send mind altering shivers. She used her eyes to capture and hold his black gaze. She had to, she needed to get to him.

"Love…" she started again, taking a deep breath of the new energy she found herself with. Tears still stained her cheeks and watered her eyes, but she felt the need for them now. The want for the emotion to bring the change she needed. And now to bring the change Sweeney needed.

"Love listen. You gotta do this now. You have to become…loving and trustworthy and…and faithful…and forgiving. You have to believe that love…that what you know and remember will come through and be there and be true…you have to believe love will be there on the other side of the light and you have to believe it's all you need. You have to trust this and trust me and trust that the light is all you'll ever need. You have to be faithful to everyone who is waiting on the other side for you, waiting for you to step through. You really have to, love. Above all…you have to be forgiving of yourself…I know now, it's the only way to be truly free. The past doesn't matter anymore, love! Don't you see! Something is waiting for us and it's all we'll ever need! Take that leap of faith and love and trust and forgiveness. You have to be like this, Sweeney!" her brows narrowed and her words choked again with tears. He was looked into her blood-shot eyes and she could see the hope growing. Was this truly working then? Her plan to get Sweeney to see the light?

She paused and looked down, then back up and into his dark eyes. They seemed…maybe less dark for a flash of a second and then…dark again. She was reminded.

She whispered, "You have to be become like Benjamin…"

But she lost his gaze. At the mention his eyes fell to the floor, heavy and painful. He was in so much despair that he couldn't manage to even cry. He was feeling the same pain now that Nellie was feeling but a few seconds ago. He hated it. He wanted to find the source of his loneliness and…slit it's throat! Kill it and find a way for it to never return! Could the light really hold such a weapon?

Could Mr. Todd really do all these things so the pain could cease? He didn't believe so. In his heart and soul, he knew that he couldn't become like Benjamin again…

He grunted and looked down, he was tiered of listening to the baker now. It was all too much. He wanted to sit in the silence more. He vaguely realized the pain it put on the baker. To sit here and not leave. So he rejected the Sweeneyness in him that wanted to drift back into bitter silence and, at least, filled in the empty air.

He muttered, his voice sad and cold. "I don't even remember what he looks like…"

Nellie let our a long, tired sigh at his hopeless response. She let her head fall back onto the back of the sofa as her body slid down. If she tried hard enough, could she just melt away and cease to exist? She wouldn't mind it at this point.

But suddenly, she was reminded. The baker stood up and rushed to her bedroom where she could see only shapes and shadows in the dimly lit room. But she saw what she set out to find. The baker wondered briefly before picking up the small object, if she even could. When she reached for it with her ghost fingers, at first, they slid right through. Nellie felt hope fading, she hated to be reminded of the fact that she was dead. If she couldn't even unfold it, then it would be completely worthless to her… Taking in one more deep breath she reached for the paper again, and this time, for some strange, unknown reason, the picture met solidness with her grasp and she was able to unfold and carry it out to the barber.

"Sweeney…" she whispered when she reached her spot back out in the parlor. He could hear the want behind the way she said his name and turned to look up at the baker in the dim light.

Slowly, she sat next to him, only inches from where he was leaning up against the arm rest, she only wanted to be that close so they could both look at the picture in her hands.

She saw the barber's eyes fall onto the photograph. She wondered briefly if he remembered that night. Finding that he probably didn't, she went on.

"Sweeney…this is Benjamin Barker," she let her singed finger point to the middle figure in the photograph. To the left of the beautiful yellow haired woman, to the right of the smiling auburn haired woman.

Mr. Todd eyes fell onto him. Benjamin Barker. Smiling. Loving. With that shiny brown hair and sparkling chocolate eyes. Sweeney wondered if really, in his heart…did he truly long to be this man again? He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"Let me tell you a bit about him…" Mrs. Lovett went on, a smile beginning to play with her lips. Just seeing him and getting to talk about him made Benjamin real and exciting to the baker again.

She went on, everything she could remember.

"Benjamin Barker started out as a lucky little boy. He had two wonderful parents, and he grew up in a descent part of town. He was loving and caring and fun to be around. He was always so kind to his playmates…including the little auburn haired girl down the street, who he wouldn't remember ever being around later in life…Benjamin grew up, always doing well in school and activities, to a respectable young man. He met his future yellow haired wife at a park one day, and later married and decided to buy a place of their own. The couple rented a home above the auburn haired girl he used to play with. Benjamin loved his wife very much. He cared for her and wanted to be with her every moment. He was now a magnificent and caring man who never failed to see the problems of others too. He never left that auburn haired girl alone on a night that she fought with her husband especially hard. Unfortunately, Benjamin was so blinded by his love with his wife, that he failed to see how much he produced love for him in others. Perhaps not unfortunately, for Benjamin was pure and would never do such things as lust over another woman when he had the perfect wife…she should have known that anyway…Benjamin was soon a loving father who cared for his new daughter so much. He had a breathtaking way of going about life with all his love he had to give. Benjamin certainly was brilliant and…astonishing. He was so all of these things, that somebody was very jealous of him. He wanted everything Benjamin had, so he sent the barber away in order to have his life. His departure broke many hearts, and ruined his flawless family…"

Nellie had closed her eyes now as tears began to fall…they fell down onto the picture that was now in her lap where she had placed the picture after she found Sweeney watching her moving lips as she told the story more then the photo. Tears streaked Benjamin's and his two best friend's faces.

Mrs. Lovett went on… "But even though his family failed to remain constant and permanent, that auburn haired baker never gave up on that loving man. She could feel someday he would be back. And she hoped and wished and prayed for fifteen long and difficult years. Because Ben was so fantastic and great, that she promised that she wouldn't give up on him until the day she died…" Nellie smiled and laughed… "And she didn't." She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and struggled to keep talking through the tears. "When he came back…she even went as far as to love the demon he had become. Because she could always see…always remembered…the Benjamin behind his dark cold eyes…Because she…Because I…I loved…you…"

Behind her closed eyes, Nellie felt something close to her face, suddenly upon her lips. Behind her closed eyes, she imagined who was so close. Whose lips were now settling on her own.

They kissed.

The baker felt the barber's lips and kissed them back. She let her arms reach up around his neck and let her hands grasp each other around it to pull them closer to seal the embrace. She felt no resistance as she kissed him, passionately and tenderly. But she didn't open her eyes…oh no…afraid it might break something.

But she wasn't hallucinating. She felt arms curling around her hips, stroking her up and down her sides.

Chill after chill ran up spine, her face became flustered and hot.

Their lips curled against each other. Kissing. Kissing deeply.

Was she imagining? Was she dreaming? She didn't care either way…and she simply enjoyed it. Her hands reached up and one got lost in his mess of hair. She wasn't sure how far this seemingly hallucination would go. But she managed to get onto her knees and then lift herself onto his lap. Her heart raced as he let her curl her legs around his own.

Her mind was going wild, her heart beating so fast, her mind spinning and leaping and screaming. She even had to resist the urge to let her screaming mind take over her vocal chords!

His dead lips were so cold, she noticed. His hands around her back and up and down her neck were so chilling. But as the moments went on, they seemed to be growing…warmer.

It gave her pleasant goosebumps. And she couldn't help but smile through the kiss. She felt their bodies against each other, somehow warm and comforting to one another.

Mrs. Lovett fell into the moment of actually kissing the one man she truly loved, the moment she had dreamed of, having this kind of contact with the barber, for ever so long. Year after year…waiting and hoping. It all made up for this one moment.

Everything was all _worth it._

They parted for a brief breath, but Nellie couldn't help but go back for another blind kiss when she didn't feel the man pull away. She leaned in deeper, and he didn't resist.

There was something about the way they kissed on that sofa…something behind his cold lips. Was it love? Was it want and desire? Or was it pity and just feeling he had to give something back?

The baker hardly cared…the blood rushing to her head making it so she thought she would pass out…perhaps being like this for eternity wasn't all that bad after all.

Perhaps this loving and this labored breathing kissing was everything she needed. Then why, she briefly wondered as their lips met again, did that hole in her seem still not to be filled?

But all too suddenly, something changed. The mere lips she was kissing changed. The arms holding her and the lap she was sitting on changed. They were…she couldn't really describe it…different. So she stopped the kiss and struggled to breath.

Her whole body felt weak with the rush. One because she hadn't taken a deep breath in what seemed like a very long time, and two because…well, she was rather overwhelmed with the sensation.

As she opened her eyes and rested her forehead against the man she was kissing's forehead, she realized a couple things.

For one thing, the two were practical lying on the couch now, she must of pressed him down so hard without meaning to. The man was leaning his head on the armrest…and the position was suddenly very awkward. Mainly when she noticed the second things. The brown eyes, the lifting smile, the smooth hair still in-between her fingers.

"Why did you do that?" she muttered to the face, still so close to her own.

The soft voice answered, something the baker had longed to hear for a very long time.

The sweet voice, like a melody you can't get out of your head, "I wanted to…before I wasn't yours anymore."

_ So perhaps Lucy was meant for Benjamin…But Sweeney is meant for someone else… _

She pulled away from him now, sliding off of him onto the sofa again, and feeling the warmth of his body against hers fall away, but she didn't mind. Not when she saw what she had missed behind her closed eyes and kissing lips.

There Benjamin Barker sat…in all of his wonderful glory. With his glowing skin and shiny brown hair, falling down to his shoulders. All one color, all so soft. His perfectly colored lips were pulled up into a weak smile. Benjamin always had one…always showed a smile.

Nellie felt her heart melt once again…she didn't even care who she was kissing…Sweeney or Benjamin…she loved both unconditionally and uncontrollably.

She muttered to the new man, or perhaps old man, in front of her as he sat up again all the way, "Wow…just as beautiful as I recall…"

He blushed at her compliment…Benjamin…so utterly innocent!

"Thanks," the baker whispered, removing her eyes from his capturing gaze, and also blushing like a school child at the moment the two had just shared.

Benjamin Barker was back.

Nellie stood up and turned around, as if she was trying to hide her want to kiss the man on the sofa again. But as she stood up, she realized she honestly didn't want to.

_ for Benjamin was pure and would never do such things as lust over another woman when he had the perfect wife_

She had said in herself. She had Sweeney. She got all she ever wanted from him. A partner through the hard times, a hand to hold in the darkest hour, and an innocent kiss when the day was through.

And as Benjamin stood up too, and came behind Nellie, neither of them were thinking of any of these things anymore anyway.

Mrs. Lovett let out a long sigh at the sight…her heart leaped, joyful tears sprung.

Benjamin's smile grew and he was taken aback by the brightness that filled the room. He had put off this feeling for so long…he couldn't figure why.

The light was right there…

Right on the other side of the parlor. Bright and…refreshing. Fresh air seemed to flow out of it and fill their lungs to satisfy…not the dead way they had been breathing for seemingly forever.

Both of them, not just Nellie this time, felt the pull. Felt the string attached to their hearts, pulling them closer. Pulling them to the fresh air, the loving feeling, the shouts calling for them, the desire to be happy, the need to step into it.

Nellie felt a hand slide into her own as the breeze from the light moved through her hair. When Benjamin looked at the baker again, she was…breathtaking. Her beauty was hard to explain, she looked dead no longer, her hair was full and shining brighter then the sun. Her smile was radiating, and she looked refreshed and new.

"I know you only lied because you loved me…" Nellie heard float through the wind that rushed around her. She swallowed back tears and nodded. The lightness of a feather seemed to coat around her bones, her heart, her tears.

"Come one Ben…" she started, squeezing the hand in her own and taking another breath of the pure bliss the light seemed to be glowing. "We have people waiting."

And they went, hand in hand, into the light waiting for them…into the love and passion that the light held for them.

If you had been in the parlor as the barber and baker crossed over that morning, you wouldn't of saw anything, but your heart would have felt it. You might have been able to feel the soft breeze and the cool love, and right as the light closed around them, you certainly would have been able to hear, floating through the air, one last song,

_ "Forget and forgive, love…"_

* * *

**Well...that's it!**

**And...it's my last Sweeney Todd fanfiction I ever wrote as my obsessions moved on to bigger and better things. **

**But I will never forget my love for Sweeney Todd (ugh...still my favorite movie!) it lead to so many new fandoms, was my first successful fanfiction, and even helped me figure out who I was as a person a bit.  
So thanks Sweeney Todd. **

**And thanks for reading! This is still my favorite fanfic I've ever written and I will come back and read it often I'm sure. **

**Thanks for sticking around and if you're looking for a new fandom to join, might I recommend Doctor Who or Supernatural? :)**

**Have a great life my wonderful readers! And stop by anytime you'd like!**


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